


Someone to Watch Over Me

by FancyFree2813



Series: Layers (originally named The Goofy Mountie Series [14]
Category: due South
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyFree2813/pseuds/FancyFree2813
Summary: Renfield and Kerri suffer the physical and emotional pain of their experiences in Las Vegas when Renfield goes in search of the truth to find out who he is.
Relationships: Renfield Turnbull/Kerri
Series: Layers (originally named The Goofy Mountie Series [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954873





	Someone to Watch Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> #14 in the Layers series and definitely a sequel to Leaving Las Vegas in 34 Pieces.

Someone to Watch Over Me

by Shirley Russell

Prologue 

Marriage. What a curious institution. One in which a person can go from the heights of ecstasy to the depths of despair within the span of a heartbeat or the swing of a person's fist. Curious.

__________________________________________________________

Kerri Ann Howard had been married to Constable Renfield Turnbull, RCMP, for exactly two weeks. As she stood at the kitchen sink in their apartment above the bookshop, Kerri couldn't help but compare the time she and Renfield had spent prior to their wedding day to the myriad of events that had happened since that fateful day. 

Immersing her hands in the soapy dishwater she didn't even realize the water was far too hot, her mind cast back to a time fourteen days ago. She smiled as she remembered the vision of Renfield in a tuxedo that was not only years out of date, but also far too short for a man of his height. And dear, sweet, misguided Ray, trying so hard, and failing so miserably at giving them a storybook wedding. 

And the honeymoon! Kerri almost laughed out loud when she thought of the first time that she and Renfield had seen that room! She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she attempted to block the images of what else had happened in that room. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, she would not think of that! She would not! 

The day that they had spent with their friends in Las Vegas had been such a wonderful time. Meg and Benton had relaxed enough in the presence of their friends to actually enjoy themselves, and Ray, who didn’t think he deserved to be called anything but Stan anymore, had been so repentant he about fell over his own feet being nice to them. As she remembered he hadn't made one derogatory remark about Canadians the entire day! Of course, he was outnumbered. 

She had thought that the first day of their marriage was just the beginning of a marvelous life with Renny. Or so she had thought. All that had changed the moment René Laurier had come crashing through the door of their motel room. 

The first two weeks of their life together had been about as far from marvelous as it was physically possible to get. In fact, Kerri thought of them as her own personal, private hell.

____________________________________________________________

Two weeks earlier:

Somehow, someway Kowalski had assumed the role of protector. He didn't want the part, had prayed to God to forget the events that lead to the need for him to help them, but there it was, they needed his help.

When they arrived home from Las Vegas, having been married barely 48 hours, Renfield and Kerri were both at a point far beyond both total mental and physical exhaustion. They had both slept fitfully on the plane, but it had done little to ease the weariness they felt down to their souls. 

Neither was in any condition to offer much comfort to the other, so Ray just sort of fell into the role of their mother hen. Once in the apartment, he made them both eat something, Kerri never did know what it was, and then saw to it that Renfield got Kerri settled in bed. He tried his best not to look, but he could not help but see the mass of scrapes and bruises revealed by the nightgown that Renfield helped her into. 

"God," he muttered, "that jerk really did a number on her." Her arm was bruised from her shoulder, under the bandage, all the way down to her wrist. He could see purple marks around her wrist that could only have been made by the fingers of Laurier. He winced as he saw bruises around her neck revealed by the cut of the nightgown. He'd taken a few beatings in his day, and knew she had to hurt like hell. His heart went out to her as he studied the cuts and bruises on her face. He loved many things about Kerri, but until this very moment he had not realized what he loved most: her strength. She had made it through all of this without one word of complaint. 

Ray gave them some privacy and ventured into the living room. One thing he didn't like about Kerri was her neatness. How the hell did they ever find anything in a room where everything was put away? He jumped as Renfield came up behind him. 

"That was quick. She asleep already?" 

He watched as Renfield collapsed onto the sofa. "Not quite." 

"Ya shoulda stayed with her 'til she-- You okay man? Yer lookin' pretty beat yerself. You shoulda just climbed inta bed with her. I could sack out on the couch, in case ya need anythin'." 

"Thank you, Ray, ah, Stan, ah Ray…please continue to be Ray? Otherwise it’s just too confusing” he sighed. “But no. You don’t need to stay. We'll be fine." Ray had no way of knowing that Renfield had plans for the couch. It was where he intended to spend the night. 

"Yer sure? I don't mind, 'n you guys might need somethin'." 

Renfield got up wearily and started down the stairs, Ray's cue that it was time he left. "Thanks for . . . everything . . . we couldn't have gotten through this without your help." Ray frowned at the lack of emotion behind Renfield's words. 

"Promise you'll call if ya need anythin'?" He was extremely worried about his friends but it wasn't until days later that he would remember that Renfield never did promise.

__________________________________________________________

They had all returned from Las Vegas vastly changed from when they had left. As Kerri thought back on it now, even then Renfield had been solicitous, but . . . distant. She remembered Meg and Benton leaving the airport with Ray Vecchio, to see that he got home safely. The poor man was completely distraught over Sheila's death. And the other Ray, well he had assigned himself the task of seeing to her and Renfield's needs. 

She awoke their first morning home, actually it was more like early afternoon, to find that Renfield's side of the bed had not been slept in. She panicked, and would have jumped up to search for him, but she found she could not move without extreme pain. She ached from head to toe, and her arm felt as if someone had tried to pull it out of its socket. She sighed as she remembered that someone had.

She found if she took it very slowly and used only her legs to propel herself in the right direction, she could at least move a little. She hesitated to call to Renny, he'd been through enough, and she was sure her appearance would scare him to death. Finally though, when she had exhausted herself and only accomplished a slight shift in her position, she called for help. 

"Renny? Are you there? I need a little help here, I can't seem to get up." 

He was by her side in an instant, helping her to her feet. It wasn't until he had her settled on the sofa that Kerri realized he hadn't spoken or even made eye contact with her. 

"Renny, are you okay?" she spoke to his back as he retreated into the kitchen. 

"I'm well. I made you some soup, I think you should have something to eat. Don't try to come in here, I'll bring it to you." He brought soup and crackers to her, and without another word went back to the kitchen. Kerri ate the meal in silence. 

Several minutes later he came back to take the bowl from her. When he turned toward the kitchen Kerri could no longer remain quiet. "Have I done something to upset you?" 

"Of course not," he responded without looking at her. He hesitated only briefly before returning to the kitchen. 

Kerri was determined not to let this rest, he was upset with her and she had to know why. She fought back the searing pain in her shoulder and struggled to get up. 

"What in heaven's name are you trying to do?" Kerri was shocked by the anger in his voice. 

"I'm trying to come into the kitchen to talk to you! Can't you leave whatever is so engrossing in there and visit with me for just a minute?" She was surprised at pleading tone in her voice. "I . . ." Her voice cracked as she fought back the tears. "I miss you. We . . . we need to talk about all that's happened. We need to talk to your father . . . that is, you need to talk to your father." 

"You're in no condition to talk about anything. And as for my father . . . it will be a long time before I even consider speaking to him. Stop struggling before you hurt yourself further. Get some rest and we'll talk later." Apparently he'd finished with whatever he'd been doing in the kitchen because this time when he left the room he went into the bedroom. He was also apparently finished with her. 

Kerri settled back into the sofa with a huff. How dare he tell her what she was or wasn't! As soon as the thought entered her mind she dismissed it. They had been through enough the last few days without her sinking into anger or self-pity. She may have been suffering some physical pain, but Renny was suffering too, and his pain was more than just surface bruises and scrapes, his pain went all the way through to his heart. 

Kerri rested her head on the back of the sofa and made a decision. There was no way in hell she would let her pride get in the way here. Renny needed her more now than he ever had before and she would not let anything, or anyone, even Renny, get in the way of her helping him. She remembered a time, not so long ago, when Renny had insisted on helping her, even though she thought she didn't want his help. He had been right then, and she was right now. She smiled as she fell asleep on the sofa.

_____________________________________________________

Kerri was awakened by the sound of hushed voices coming from the direction of the stairs. It was dark, indicating to her that she had slept the day away. She moaned slightly as she tried to move, and the voices quieted. She jumped slightly as she realized that someone was sitting near her in the darkness. "Renny?" 

"No, it's Meg. I'm sorry if I startled you. Ben is here too. We stopped by to see how you're feeling, but Renfield says you've slept all day. Are you feeling better?" Kerri's heart was warmed by the concern her friends obviously felt for her. The fleeting thought that she wished Renny felt the same concern was dismissed almost before it had formed. 

"I'm really sore, but other than that I think I'll survive. What is that wonderful smell?" 

"Renfield's been cooking again, I think." Even in the darkness Meg could see the bruises on Kerri's face and she cringed. 

"That bad, huh?" 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . . that is, it's not too bad." 

"The hell you say." Kerri tried to smile but found it hurt far too much. "I haven't looked in a mirror and from the look on your face I don't think I want to." Kerri sighed, "I'll heal Meg, but I'm not so sure about Renny. He's, he's just so stoic about all this, I can't even imagine what he's feeling, and I get the definite feeling he's not going to tell me." 

"That's part of the reason we're here. I think you and Renfield need some time off, to heal and to have a real honeymoon, one that's NOT arranged by Vecc . . . Kowal . . . Stan…Ray. Ben is talking to Renfield about it right now." 

Arguing would have been a more appropriate description. Fraser could not understand the younger Constable's reluctance to take time away from work. Especially since Kerri obviously needed tending to. He had to assume it had to do with some misguided sense of duty. 

"Constable . . . Renfield, you need to forget about the Consulate, and be more concerned with Kerri's . . . and your. . . healing. You need to take some time, please don't make me order you?" 

Renfield looked toward Inspector Thatcher, kneeling on the floor next to Kerri, but he could not bear to look at his wife. He silently nodded his consent to taking two weeks off from work, a place he longed to go, just to get out of this oppressive apartment. He had no idea how he would survive the next two weeks. 

Renfield did manage to sleep in the same bed with Kerri that night, but he still could not bear to touch her. Each time she reached for him he moved away, and when she moaned in her sleep he made no attempt to comfort her. As great as he knew her pain to be, he knew his was greater. He could offer her nothing, needing every ounce of strength he possessed to keep from losing his sanity. 

From the first moment he had seen René, Renfield had felt his sense of self slipping away until, at this very moment, he had absolutely no idea who he was. The terrifying part of it was he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He couldn't love Kerri, he couldn't care for his friends, and God help him, he couldn't bear the thought of ever seeing his father again. 

Just as when Melanie had died, all he had was his work. And now Constable Fraser and Inspector Thatcher had taken that from him. How would he survive this insistent pain without his work to hide in? As he lay next to Kerri that night his soul screamed for the answer. 

Kerri and Renfield spent the next several days in much the same manner, Kerri trying everything she knew to get through to him, and Renfield becoming more and more distant. He did manage to see to it that she got to the doctor that week, but Kerri never did know if he cared about her prognosis, and if he did care he never showed it. She needed so desperately to comfort and be comforted but Renfield was just not able to accept or offer any consolation. By the end of their first week back from Las Vegas Kerri was at her wits end. She had tried everything she could think of, begging, pleading, crying and praying, but nothing reached him. 

Her bruises were fading, but a broken heart was rapidly taking their place. Finally, when she could think of nothing else to do, in desperation Kerri called Renny's father. She gave him just the briefest of details, telling him only that Renfield was in trouble. Mr. Turnbull caught the next plane for Chicago.

_______________________________________________________

Kerri had closed the bookshop with a "See you after the honeymoon" sign prior to their leaving for Las Vegas. The sign still hung in the window when Richard Turnbull arrived that Friday afternoon. With a growing sense of trepidation, he knocked lightly on the door. 

Richard had been through many hard times with Renfield, from the death of Elizabeth, his wife and Renfield's mother, to the deaths of Melanie and Meghan. He knew that Renfield needed him now, and it scared him to find out why. Being his father and his friend had not always been easy, but Richard loved his son and would stand by him, no matter what had happened. 

When Kerri answered the door he had to control a gasp. "Kerri, what on earth happened? Has there been an accident? Has Ren been hurt?" He was barely able to control the panic in his voice. 

Kerri hurried to reassure her father-in-law as she gave him a welcoming hug. "No, Richard, Renny's not hurt. I'll let him tell you about what happened. It's not good, Richard. It's something that's not going to be easy." Kerri took a deep breath. "He doesn't know you're coming, and I don't think he's going to be happy to see you. But the two of you have to talk, and I didn't know what else to do. He may never forgive me, but dear God, I had to do something." 

Finally having someone's arms around her caused Kerri to break down. Richard's panic grew as Kerri sobbed in his arms. "Honey, what is it? What's happened to--" 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Renfield appeared at the foot of the stairs and stared, disbelieving at his wife and his father. "Well?" 

Kerri's hand shook as she wiped her tears away. "I asked him to come, Renny. You need to talk to him, give him the chance to explain. Please, Renny, give him a chance--" 

"You give him a chance. I've got nothing to say to him, or to you for that matter! Both of you just leave me alone!" He turned and ran back up the stairs. 

"Kerri, I think you'd better explain what's happened." Even though he wasn't sure, Richard had a terrible feeling he might just know what this was about. He just couldn't admit it to himself, not after so many years. 

"I can't tell you Richard, Renny needs to do that." She took his hand and led him up the stairs, praying she had not driven the man she loved completely away. 

They found him in the kitchen. Richard almost smiled at the sight, seeing his son in the kitchen warmed his heart. From his earliest years Ren had loved to work with his mother and father in the bakery or in the kitchen of their small Vancouver home. Whatever was wrong, they could work it out. There was no one in the world that knew Ren better, or loved him more. They could certainly work this out.

______________________________________________________

"Ren, I don't know what's happened, but you have got to talk to me. I'm your father and I love you. Please, tell me what's happened?" 

There was very little emotion save sarcasm in Renfield's voice as he turned on the man he believed he no longer knew. "I just discovered I have a brother, a twin brother, that's what's happened! But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you . . . Dad?" He laughed softly. "I really don't know if I should call you 'dad'. Are you my father, or is some unknown son of a bitch the one who really sired me?" 

"Renfield!" 

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to think?" As the angry words poured forth they became louder and louder. "You lied to me all my life, you and Mum, or is that a lie too? Who is my mother, Richard?" 

Richard's words were soft, as he tried to make them as comforting as he could. "We always meant to tell you, and when you were old enough to understand we would have. But then Elizabeth . . . died . . . and I just could never find the words." He hesitated just briefly, "have you seen him? René? I've always wondered . . ." 

"Oh, yeah, I've seen him all right. I killed him. Shot him with the gun he was threatening to use on Kerri. You saw the bruises, he did that to her. He--"

Richard staggered backwards as if Renfield's words had hit him like a physical blow. "He's dead?" Richard whispered. Renfield thought he might have seen tears in his father's eyes as the older man fell into a chair, but he really didn't care. 

"Yes, he's dead! He probably would have killed both of us if I hadn't stopped him! Answer me, why didn't I know about him, and who the hell am I?" 

Richard sighed deeply, and if Renfield had been looking closely enough he would have seen the man age ten years before his eyes. "Well? Answer me! What have you kept from me all my life?" 

"Renny, please. Can't you see how you're hurting him? Please, give him a chance--"

Renfield turned his anger away from his father and directed it toward his wife. "A chance? You mean like the chance he gave me to know that I had a brother? Or the chance he gave you to know how to protect yourself? Or the chance you gave me to tell you I didn't ever want to see him again?" 

"Renny, you're not making any sense." 

"This whole thing doesn't make any sense! God Kerri, please stop interfering! This is between my father and me! Please just leave us alone!" When Kerri did not move, Renfield shouted at her, "get OUT!" 

All the blows that René had rained on her did not hurt Kerri one tenth as much as just those two words shouted by Renfield. And it hurt her even more to know that he meant them. She left the room without another sound.

_______________________________________________________

When Richard was finally able to compose himself enough, he addressed his son. "We never meant to hurt you, Ren, just the opposite, we loved you so much, both of you." Richard stared out the window as his mind traveled back in time more than thirty years. When he began to speak again, his mind was no longer in the room, and he was no longer fifty-four years old. He was a young man and the year was 1966. 

"I graduated from high school in '65 and your mother - Elizabeth - was a year behind me." Richard smiled at the memory. "We had been in love ever since we first met, when we were just barely teenagers. She was such a pretty girl, all the boys fought for her attention. I remember how proud I was when she chose me. 

"My mother had all kinds of big plans for me . . . for Lizzy and me. She'd been running the bakery single handedly since my dad died, and she was planning to turn everything over to me, now that I was old enough, or so she thought.

"I had always been rather adventurous, and I somehow got it in to my head that I had to see the world." He laughed as he remembered himself as a young man. "At a time when so many young American men were contemplating going north across the border into Canada, to avoid the draft, all I could think about was heading south. I was supposed to start college in the fall, but just didn't have it in me. Sometime around the middle of November I just took off, left a mother who desperately needed my help and a beautiful young girl who loved me, and went to San Francisco. Lizzy cried and my mother begged, but I was undeterred. I headed across the border in a rather disreputable VW bus that I had painted with peace signs and 'California or Bust' all over it. I let my hair grow and wore love beads around my neck and tie dyed shirts and a Nehru jacket. I thought I was really cool. I landed in the middle of Haight-Asbury. Peace, freedom, free love and all the drugs anyone would ever need."

Richard's mind had traveled back in time and he failed to notice the shocked look of disgust from his son. 

"I camped in Golden Gate Park, avoiding the 'fuzz', as we called them, and ate in soup kitchens for almost a month before I met Marie." He sighed at the memory. "She was French but had grown up in Quebec, and was very dark and seductive. I was completely mesmerized by her dark hair and bright blue eyes. I remember she was tall, taller than I was, and very imposing. I had never met anyone like her before. We were compatriots, two lost souls in a foreign country." He hesitated, lost in his memories for a few moments, "she was a painter, and painted some of the most bizarre things I had ever seen. I told myself I loved her work, and convinced myself that she was a great talent. She lived in a commune off Haight St and through a drug induced haze invited me to join her. I jumped at the chance, San Francisco nights can be awfully damp. Anyway, I moved in with Marie, and Sunshine, Twilight, and Frank, and a cast of ever changing characters.

"The place was a dump, with trash everywhere and all kinds of organic food rotting in the refrigerator. We slept on a bare mattress thrown on the floor of the second story landing, people stepping over us at all hours of the night. Marie painted murals on the walls of our landing and I even tried my hand at poetry, writing it on the wall, too." Richard laughed to himself; having completely forgotten Renfield was listening. "It's a good thing I didn't have to make a living at it, I couldn't write my way out of a paper bag. The whole 'scene' was great fun, for about three months. When I finally realized I wanted more out of life than war protests, college sit-ins and rock concerts, and that I missed my mum and Lizzy, I told Marie I was going home. As I remember, all she was concerned about was that I give her the tickets to the Monterey Pop Festival that someone had given us in exchange for an ounce of marijuana. 

"I didn't ever love her, in fact as I think back on it now, I'm not sure I even liked her that much. She had a mean temper and was subject to some pretty violent rages. But there were times she could be so sweet and loving, and genuine." Richard shuddered, still oblivious of the existence of his son. "I went back to Vancouver, anxious to take over the family business, but even more anxious to win back the love of Lizzy. To my amazement she was right there, just waiting for me to come back. I spent the rest of her life trying to make up for my stupidity." Richard came back to the present just long enough to confront his son. "She loved me, and you, with all her heart. She couldn't have loved you more if you were . . ."

___________________________________________________________

The anger in Renfield's eyes caused Richard to hesitate, but he had started the story, and would see it through to the end. "Lizzy and I got married right after she graduated from high school, we were young, but very much in love, and anxious to start our lives together. Mum turned the business over to us and we settled in to - well, it might be considered mediocre by today's standards, but we were very happy with the life God had given us.

"Then one day, several months after we were married, Marie showed up on our doorstep with two tiny babies, two boys, my sons. The prettiest darn babies either Lizzy or I had ever seen. Marie was furious when she found out I had gotten married, I guess she thought I'd marry her and help with you and your brother.

"Marie had named you René and Renfield." Richard smiled yet again at the memory. "René was sleeping soundly, but you were screaming your lungs out. I think Lizzy fell in love with you the moment she pulled you out of the basket Marie carried you in, and I think the feeling was mutual. The second she took you in her arms you stopped crying. She was the only one who could ever do that." Richard looked to Renfield, hoping for a glimpse of a smile as his son thought of his mother. He was extremely disappointed that the anger was still there. "Marie decided to leave both of you with us, she didn't have a job, and with no family to help her, I think she was desperate. Plus, I really believe she didn't love you. I'm sorry to tell you that son, but she just did not seem to bond with either of you. 

"Lizzy was so excited, I couldn't help but love her even more. She was willing to take in the children of her husband and another woman. I doubt that there was anyone else alive that would have done that. 

"We decided to let Marie stay with us for a couple of days, just so she would be sure. But she just got angrier and angrier, and began shouting at Lizzy. She'd been with us less than twenty-four hours when I told her she would have to leave." There were tears streaming down his cheeks as he ended his story. "She left in the middle of the night and took René with her. Lizzy was devastated, we both were."

Richard pleaded with his son, "Renfield, you have to know, we searched for years trying to find him. Do you remember Michael Green?" When Renfield made no attempt to respond Richard continued, "he was around the house a lot when you were little. He was a private investigator I hired to track down Marie. He never found any trace of her.

"Our hearts were broken that we couldn't have both of you. I've always thought that she took René out of spite, just to get back at us for being so happy and loving you so much . . . " Richard ran out of words and the strength to say any more.

Renfield turned away from the man sitting before him and walked to the window that overlooked the alley. Staring at, but not seeing, the parking lot below, he struggled with the disgust that was building in him. Finally, when he could no longer control himself, he spun around to face his father. 

"So, Dad, what you're telling me is that my brother and I were the unwanted by product of a loveless, drugged-out relationship between a bitch of a woman and a man who would screw anyone just to get a warm place to sleep?" Renfield spat the words at his father. Richard was across the room in two strides and slapped his son resoundingly across the face. Stunned into silence, both men starred at each other for several seconds before Renfield started to laugh.

_______________________________________________________

"I was wrong when I asked if my father was some unknown son of a bitch." Renfield stopped laughing and could only whisper, "it seems that I am the son of a bitch." 

Kerri stood at the head of the stairs with tears streaming down her cheeks. She had hurried back up at the first sound of shouting, just in time to witness her beloved father-in-law strike her husband. 

"Renfield! Your mother was a lovely woman who loved your father very much, you told me so yourself. You can't--" 

"Shut up, Kerri. This is none of your concern. This is between my father and me." Renfield directed all his anger and disgust toward his wife, and shocked Kerri into silence. 

"Renfield, please don't speak to Kerri that way! You're upset with me, and rightfully so, but please don't take it out on her, she's only trying to help." Kerri could see the tears in Richard's eyes as he pleaded with his son. "I'm sorry that all of this has happened, Son. I'm sorry that you didn't know, that we never told you about René." Richard returned to his chair, an old and beaten man. "But I'm especially sorry that he turned out to be--" 

Renfield raced across the room and grabbed Kerri by her injured arm. Failing to notice her wince in pain, he dragged her to stand in front of his father. "He turned out to be a son of a bitch, just like his twin? Is that what you're sorry for? That he did this to Kerri? Look at her! Your son did this and a whole lot more! I can hardly stand to look at--" 

Renfield stopped himself before he said the words he could never take back, but Kerri and Richard both knew what he was about to say. Right then and there Kerri realized why Renny had been treating her the way he had. He had told Ray he was worried that every time she looked at him she'd see René, but that wasn't it. Every time Renny looked at her he saw René, and the evil that possessed the man that Renny believed was just like him! Dear God, Renny was afraid that he might become just like his brother! 

"Kerri, could you please take me back to the airport? I don't think Renfield wants me here any longer, and I have said all that I can say." Richard, more hurt than angry, grabbed his bag, but hesitated before he started down the stairs, "Ren, Elizabeth was your mother. From the moment she met you no one on this earth could have loved you more. You do a grave disservice to her memory if you believe any differently. Her deepest sorrow in this life was not being able to love René in the same way." Richard sighed deeply when Renfield failed to acknowledge his words. "Goodbye, Son."

Kerri drove Richard to the airport in silence. Neither one of them spoke a word until they arrived at the curb in front of the Air Canada terminal. Before Richard opened his door he turned to Kerri. "Ever since he was a small child Renfield has felt things more deeply than other men. I used to worry some about the way he hung around the house so much. He always had friends, but I think he always felt a little insecure in other's love for him. Maybe that came from the way Marie treated them from the very first, I don't know." Richard stared out the windshield of her car for several moments before continued, "Honey, please be patient with him? He needs you desperately right now. He's doing the same thing he has always done when he's hurting, pushing away those he loves the most. I think he's afraid that his pain will cause you to stop loving him, and he couldn't stand that. I've seen him upset before, especially when Melanie died, but he wouldn't let any of us near him. It's the same way now, he's angrier than I have ever seen him, but you've got to stay with him. Please?"

Kerri smiled at the man who she loved as much as she would have if he'd been her own father. "I'm not going anywhere, Richard. I tried to keep him away once when I was hurting, but he wouldn't let me. Now it's time I returned the favor. I love him too much to let him shut me out." Kerri spoke the words but wondered if she had the strength to see them through. 

"Call me if you need me? And I'll be on the next plane back." Richard gently patted her sore arm, "I am sorry about what René-- " 

Kerri cut off his words with a soft kiss on his cheek. "There's a lot of healing that is going to have to happen here, but you raised a wonderful son, Richard. Don't ever lose sight of that." Richard smiled at Kerri and exited the car. 

By the time she returned to the bookshop Kerri had convinced herself that everything was going to be all right. Renny knew the whole story now and had to know that his father and Elizabeth loved him. Whatever had happened to René was a result of his upbringing, just as the dear, remarkable man Renny had become was a result of the love he received from his parents. Kerri found herself almost feeling sorry for René, he was cruel, but what kind of cruelty had he been subjected to? 

She took a deep breath as she let herself into the shop. It wasn't going to be easy, but they would make it, the foundation of love they felt for each other would sustain them. She glanced around the shop briefly, and spotted Dickens cowering under the mystery shelf. She was about to call to him when she heard the floor above her creak. "Come on you silly pup, you're part of this family too. We've got to start working on putting things right around here." As she hurried up the stairs, Kerri didn't notice that Dickens remained firmly entrenched under the shelves.

______________________________________________________

As she reached the top of the stairs, Kerri heard a drawer slam in their bedroom. Not wanting to startle him, as they were both still rather jumpy; she called out to him as she crossed the living room. "Renny?" There was no reply. "Renny?" 

Kerri stopped dead in her tracks in the doorway. With a growing sense of dread she tried to get his attention. "Renny, what are you doing?" She was terribly afraid she already knew the answer. 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied as he shoved another shirt into his duffel bag. 

"It looks like you're packing," she whispered. 

"Give the lady a cigar! Hit the nail on the head with her first attempt." 

"Are you going somewhere?" She was afraid she was losing her voice. 

"Isn't that what people are usually planning when they pack a bag?" His reply made her questions sound like they were totally stupid. 

"Of course, it's just that I . . . I didn't know . . . I mean . . . you didn't tell me . . . you were going anywhere." Kerri felt as if the floor beneath her feet had slipped away and she was floating, about to fall. 

"Well, I'm telling you now." He slung his bag over his shoulder and made for the door as if to mow her down. 

"Renny, please, where are you going? You don't have to leave, we can work this out--" 

"Damn it Kerri, stop treating me like a child! You - all of you - treat me as if I was a small boy! I am not a child, and--" 

"Renny, I never meant--" 

"No? You weren't getting your way around here, unhappy with the way I was treating you, so what do you do? You call my father! God, of all people! Renny won't play nice Richard, come and see if you can talk some sense into him." 

"That's not why--" 

"Yeah right! Tell me exactly what you thought when you saw me packing!" 

"I don't understand." 

"The hell you don't! The first thing you thought was you'd get Ray, or better yet Fraser, over here to stop me! And if that didn't work, you'd get them to come after me, bring the errant little boy home, where you could show him the error of his ways!" The more Renfield shouted the quieter Kerri became. "Huh? Didn't you?" 

Kerri knew that no matter what she said he would believe what he wished. So she told him the truth. "It crossed my mind to ask Benton for help, yes." 

"Well, thank you at least for being truthful. Now would you please get out of my way?" 

"Renny, please--" 

"There it is again! Every time you call me that it sounds like you're speaking to a six-year-old! 'Can Renny come out and play?', 'Renny, can I ride your bike?', 'Renny, got your homework done yet?'." 

"Listen to yourself, you sound like a small child!" Kerri had to close her eyes and take a deep breath to keep from losing her temper. "Please, please, don't go like this," she pleaded. "At least wait until tomorrow. Sleep on it, I'm sure you'll see things differently then." 

"Just because you can never bear a child, doesn't mean you can treat me like one!" 

Kerri could not utter another sound, Renfield's words having sucked all the air out of the room. 

If he regretted what he had said it didn't show on his face, but his shouts quieted dramatically. "Kerri, please step aside. I do not want to have to push you out of the way. I need some time to think." As Kerri moved to let him pass he turned back to her, "but I promise you that if you send Ray or Fraser, or my father after me you will never see me again."

Kerri did not move for several minutes after the front door slammed shut, the bang it made sounding eerily reminiscent of the shot that killed René.

_________________________________________________________

Kerri stood stock still for several minutes, just staring at the head of the stairs, where she had last seen Renfield. After standing for those minutes, she stood even longer, just staring, without really seeing anything.

When she finally came back to herself, she slowly took in the room around her, as if she thought if she searched hard enough she would see him, sitting in his favorite chair, or working in the kitchen. She didn't feel a thing, numbness having wrapped itself around her shoulders like a protective blanket. It was only when Dickens whined and nudged her leg with his cold, wet nose that Kerri at last returned from her stupor. 

"Well, I guess it's just the two of us for a while, huh, boy?" Her words were soft and emotionless as she scratched her canine companion lightly on the top of the head. The numbness continued to grow however and surrounded her heart as she walked slowly to the kitchen. There were dishes to be washed and things to be put away, so she set about straightening up. Everything had become very surreal to her, and she felt as if she were a player in an old movie, everything around her having changed to black and white. 

It took her much longer than usual to finish cleaning the kitchen. Not only had her world become a black and white movie, it also played in agonizingly slow motion. Every movement she made, every step that she took she watched as if someone else were pulling her strings. 

When she had nothing left to do in that room, she moved, unaware of exactly how, to the other rooms of the apartment. She ran her hands over the hard, smooth surface of the tables and the soft, nubby fabric of his chair, trying to feel his presence. She picked up the daily newspaper from the floor, holding it to her nose, in a vain attempt to catch his scent. 

She floated into the bathroom, where she ran her hands over his towel. Closing her eyes she breathed in the fragrance of his Mountie issue soap and could almost imagine he was standing in the room with her. 

At last, in the growing darkness, Kerri moved into their bedroom, where she stood motionless again. She wasn't really thinking about anything, her mind having become as numb as her heart. Dickens followed her and made an unsuccessful attempt to bring her out of her daze, but she had long since become unaware of his presence. 

This room too, had become the continuation of her black and white, slow motion movie. As she looked around the room, once again searching for Renfield, the Laura Ashley comforter and shams, the braided rugs, even the Queen Anne furniture that had belonged to Renfield's mother, all of it had turned to shades of gray. With one exception. 

Kerri finally moved to the closet. In his haste to leave, Renfield had left the door to his side open, and had left one thing hanging there, the tunic of his red serge dress uniform. In the world that had gone colorless for Kerri, the red of the tunic shone like a beacon in the darkness. 

She slowly removed the tunic from its hanger and buried her face in the scratchy wool. 

More than the newspaper or even the soap, this tunic smelled of Renfield. As she held it to her she could feel his arms around her and imagine she was standing there with her head resting on his chest. 

It smelled of soap and leather, and of sweat and Old Spice cologne, all the things that made up his essence. She kept her face buried in it for a very long time.

When the crushing weariness from almost of a week of physical and emotional pain finally overcame her, Kerri took the tunic and went to their guestroom. She hugged the body of the jacket to her chest and wrapped the sleeves around her. She then curled up with the tunic on the small bed and slept that way for the rest of the night.

____________

While Kerri slept, wrapped in his uniform tunic, Renfield walked the streets of Chicago. There was no purpose in his direction and he made no attempt to actually reach a destination, he just turned left out of the bookshop and started walking. 

Once upon a time he had been the master of blocking out unwanted thoughts. This night he took up the practice again and thought only about the squeak of his boots just as they touched the sidewalk, the timbre of the laughter of the people he saw and the smells from the restaurants he passed. He tried his damnedest to keep all thoughts of René Laurier, his father, and Kerri as far from his mind as he possibly could. The farther he walked the more he accomplished his goal, until, by the middle of the night, thoughts of those he once knew or loved were completely shut out of his mind. He was once again the happy, carefree, clueless Mountie that Kerri had met just a little over a year before. 

In the early morning hours Renfield finally fell asleep on a park bench, listening to the birds and the breeze rustling through the trees.

_______________________________________________________

Renfield may have been successful in blocking all unwanted conscious thoughts, but he could not control his dreams. He startled two joggers and a paperboy on a bike, as he awoke with a shout. It took him several minutes of sitting on the bench to control the terror that had awakened with him, caused by the nightmare of seeing himself lying in a pool of blood in Armando Langoustini's foyer. 

The dawn air was cool but Renfield was soaked with perspiration. After several minutes, his body still trembled uncontrollably, and his mind was racing. As if on overload, the thoughts of René's death, his father's lies and Kerri's betrayal came flooding in, in such a torrent, he felt that his head just might explode. 

When he could no longer stand it, he jumped up and started walking again. When walking didn't ease the pain in his head, he stashed his duffel in a locker at a downtown bus station, grabbing out shorts and his Nikes, and found the nearest high school track. He ran and ran, around and around, faster and faster, in a vain attempt to outrun the demon thoughts that kept constant pace with him. 

Finally he collapsed from the heat and exhaustion, still unable to escape the torment in his mind. He fell to the ground with his hands clamped to either side of his head, writhing from the pain of the thoughts he could not out distance.

Two elderly men, out for their mid-morning constitutional, witnessed Renfield's collapse and ran to help. "Are you all right, Son?" One of the men was carrying water and offered Renfield a drink. "Bad headache?" The young man seemed slightly dazed and both men were alarmed at the redness of his face. 

"I just . . . just pushed myself a little . . . little too hard, I guess. Thank you kindly for your concern, gentlemen, I think I'm okay now." The two men helped the larger man to his feet. 

"Are ya sure, you look a little woozy. Ya got any family ya want us to call?" 

Renfield sighed heavily as he straightened up to his full height. "No . . . I . . . I don't . . . don't have any family." He was astounded that as soon as he spoke the words the pain in his head disappeared. 

"My house is just across the street, why don't ya come over and sit in the shade on the porch for a few minutes?" Both men were reluctant to let the young man just walk away. 

"No, really, I'll be fine. Thank you for your kind offer, but I will be fine. I shouldn't have tried to run in this heat. I'm not used to it."

"Where ya from?"

"I'm Canadian . . . but . . . I live in Chicago now." 

"Ah, I thought I heard an accent! What brings ya to our neck of the woods?" 

"I, uh, I'm a Constable in the RCMP. I'm posted at the Consulate, downtown." 

"You must get homesick for the cold and snow. Even snows in the summer up there, doesn't it?" 

Renfield smiled slightly. "Not everywhere." Talking to these men took his mind off his troubles for a moment, and he was grateful. 

"I got a friend that lives in Ontario. Name's Bill Jamison. Don't know him, do ya?" 

Renfield smiled again. "No, I'm sorry I don't. I'm from," he hesitated briefly, realizing he wasn't exactly sure where he was from, "that is, I lived in Vancouver, British Columbia." 

"Whoa, that's way out on the West Coast, right? I can't keep your states straight." 

"Joe, they got provinces up there, not states." 

"Sorry, no offense." Joe was only slightly embarrassed at not knowing much about his neighboring country to the north. 

Renfield laughed softly. "None taken. But someday you should visit Canada, it's a beautiful country." 

"Might just do that," Smitty said, but thought there was still way too much of his own country he hadn't seen. "If you're doin' okay, we'll be on our way." 

"Thank you kindly, gentlemen, your concern means a great deal to me." 

Joe and Smitty continued on their walk, Joe commenting on how polite Canadians were. 

"They're polite all right, but that young man's in trouble. Did ya see the ring on his finger? And he said he didn't have any family. I'll just bet he was tryin' to run away from some biddy of a wife." 

"But he was runnin' in circles." 

"You ever tried to get away from Abigail? Circles is just about right!" Both men laughed and continued on their way. 

Renfield watched as the men walked away. He stood on the grass and looked around him, at the high school, mostly deserted for the summer, and the working class neighborhood of Chicago's inner city. The realization was very slow in coming, but within a few minutes Renfield realized he was homesick. He was homesick for just the sight of Canada, and to stand on Canadian soil. He also realized what he needed to do.

_________________________________________________________

Kerri took Renfield's threat very seriously. Believing what he said, and fearing she might never see him again, she did not call Ray, Benton, or even Meg for help. And because they all believed Renfield and Kerri were on their honeymoon, none of their friends attempted to contact them. Oh, Ray wanted to crash the "party" a few times, but Fraser just gave him his shocked 'that's a really unwise idea' look and Ray thought better of it. 

Neither friend admitted it to the other, but Fraser and Ray were both very concerned about Turnbull and Kerri, especially Turnbull. They both remembered well the goofy, clueless Mountie that he had been prior to meeting Kerri, and the terrible tragedy in his past that had pushed him into being that way. They could only pray that Kerri's love would sustain him through this latest tragedy. 

But, because their friends respected their privacy and kept their worries to themselves, Kerri endured the pain of a slowly healing body and Renfield's desertion alone. She never left the bookshop afraid someone would see the bruises or ask her about her husband. There was little food in the kitchen, and when it ran out she just stopped eating. For the first four nights that he was gone, Kerri slept wrapped in his tunic. She spent her days wandering around from room to room, in a loneliness-induced daze that protected her from coming completely apart. She had also taken to wearing the tunic as she moved aimlessly around their apartment. 

Just now she wandered around in the children's reading room, in the glow of the early afternoon sun, barefooted, and wearing just her nightgown and Renfield's tunic. She hadn't come in here since he left, knowing instinctively that the pain of it would be more than she could bear, but today she could not resist the need to be even closer to him. He had loved this room more than any other in the whole building, and he had made it his own. He read to the children every Saturday and would have done so every day of the week if it had not been for his other 'job'. Renfield was in his element here, Mr. Mountie with adoring children at his feet. 

Kerri moved around the room slowly pulling out books he had read to the group, running her hands over the pages and hugging the volumes to her chest. As he had since the minute Renfield slammed out the front door, Dickens hung on Kerri's heels, occasionally giving her a comforting nudge with his nose, but as she had done since Renfield left, Kerri ignored the pup's existence. 

Ignoring Dickens' existence proved to be Kerri's undoing. As she moved aimlessly around the room she failed to notice that he had plopped himself down in her path. She tripped over his body and fell head long onto her not yet healed shoulder. She screamed as she landed on the floor, almost passing out from the pain, and then she began to cry. 

Kerri had not cried when Renfield left, the numbness keeping her sheltered from the worst of the pain. As the time he was gone increased, so did the numbness, until she felt very little. But just a couple of tears from the searing pain were all it took to open the floodgates. She sobbed into Dickens' fur as she lay on the floor, writhing from the pain, not in her shoulder, but from a broken heart. 

Kerri cried and cried. Just as Renfield had pushed himself ever harder around the high school track days before, Kerri's tears pushed her to the brink of exhaustion. But unlike Renfield, Kerri had no one to help her up or to offer assistance. She lay, sobbing, in the same spot well into the night. When the tears finally subsided she fell to sleep, without ever moving from the floor next to the shelves of Renfield's children's reading room.

___________________________________________________________

Kerri was awakened by a wet tongue licking her face. When she tried to move she found she was almost as stiff as the first morning after René beat her. But this time she did not have Renfield to help her up. After a few minutes of agonizingly slow movements, she was finally able to grab the bookshelves and pull herself up. 

Getting to her feet unaided was just the first of several small victories that Kerri would experience on this day. The tears she shed on the previous afternoon had served to wash the daze away and allow her to make a decision. Renfield had been gone a very long time now and had not contacted her. She was finally able to accept the fact that he was not coming back. 

The bookshop was scheduled to reopen tomorrow, and she would need to get on with the business of living. She took a deep breath and with only minor physical pain ascended the stairs to her apartment. She told Dickens to be patient, she was out of dog food and would have to make herself presentable before she could even think about appearing on the street. She was no longer worried if others knew Renfield was gone, he was due back at the Consulate in a couple of days, and then everyone would know. 

She stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash over her. She hated the idea that her friends and neighbors would pity her, but she'd be damned if she would wallow in it anymore. Renfield had chosen to live his life without her, and she would accept that and get on with hers. She'd just have to spend a lot of time and energy teaching herself how not to love him. 

The water washed away so many things. The dirt from her body, of course, but also the essence of Renfield that hung around her. She stepped out of the shower feeling almost a new woman. Dickens whined as she took the time to dry her hair and apply makeup over the fading bruises around her eye. "I know you're hungry, so am I. How about if I go to Desmone's and get us some spaghetti and meatballs? Debbie will let me in early, and you can have as many meatballs as you want." The silly dog turned around in circles in delight. "I guess that would be a yes." 

When she was finally sure that her appearance wouldn't frighten anyone, Kerri let herself and Dickens out the back door of the bookshop. As he ran to do his business on the grassy area across the alley, Kerri knocked on the back door of the restaurant. 

"Kerri! It's good to see you've finally come up for air. I was wondering if I'd need to send in some sustenance, the two of you must have burned an awful lot of calories." Debbie laughed at Kerri's obvious embarrassment. 

Kerri eluded Debbie's questions as best she could. "Actually, could I get some spaghetti and meatballs to go? I need to get right back . . ." 

Debbie grinned at her. "I'll just bet you do! If I had a man that looked as good as yours I'd 'get right back' too." Debbie nudged Kerri in the arm but missed the tiny wince of pain from her friend. "Here ya go. Remember, if you feed him, don't do it in bed, it can be kind of messy," Debbie leered at Kerri, "hmm, but then again . . ." 

Kerri grabbed the food and hurried away. "Thanks, Deb." 

'My, she really is in a rush. Newlyweds!' Debbie smiled as she closed the door. 

After a shower and a late breakfast of spaghetti and garlic bread, Kerri felt much better. She took a long walk with Dickens and the fresh air and exercise helped her body and spirit. She was still desperately lonely but knew now that she would survive without Renfield.

_________________________________________________________

Renfield's learning to survive without Kerri had come much easier to him than her learning to survive without him. He was finally able to put all thoughts of her out of his mind, even while asleep. 

After his eventful morning at the high school track he went back to the bus station, grabbed his duffel bag and boarded the first bus he could find heading in the right direction. That direction was east, and a little north. He was going to Canada, by way of Detroit. 

It took forever to get from Chicago to Detroit, but the time it took to get over the border seemed like an eternity to the man thirsty just to drink in the Canadian atmosphere. Once through customs the bus stopped near Windsor. Renfield had never been to this part of Ontario but was anxious just to stand on the ground of his native country. 

He was overwhelmed with disappointment at seeing that the terrain here looked very much like, well like the US. His part of the country afforded magnificent vistas of towering mountains and azure blue lakes, islands offshore and a breath-taking coastline. Windsor looked disappointingly like Detroit. Not that there was anything wrong with Detroit, but it was the US. The homesickness he felt was intensified by disappointment. 

Renfield left the bus in London and rented a room in a slightly seedy motel on Oxford St. As he walked the London streets, he found that his homesickness continued to grow. London was a nice enough town, not like Detroit or Windsor, but very much like other medium sized towns - in the US. 

After a couple of days in London, Renfield convinced himself that if he got deeper into Ontario he would certainly feel better. This time he rented a car, a mid-sized they said, that turned out to be a little less than adequate for a man of his size. 

He had gotten as far as Woodstock when he saw the sign for Niagara Falls. On a whim, he turned toward the QEW highway. It was late in the afternoon when he arrived at the Falls. There was a lot of traffic and hundreds of tourists milling around, but he was able to find a parking place fairly close to a fantastic view. 

The wind was strong, and the mist enveloped him as he took in the impressive sight. The sunlight and the mist created the largest, most vibrant rainbow he had ever seen. It was so beautiful, starting above the Falls on the American side and stretching across the Horseshoe Falls and down into the mist. For just the briefest of moments he thought how much Kerri would love to see this. He pushed the thought out of his mind in a rush and continued his solitary observation of the panoramic view before him. Families passed by and people of all ages skated, jogged and walked along the path that meandered next to the street. 

Dozens of couples strolled arm in arm, posed for pictures or stood embracing with the Falls as their backdrop. Renfield had neglected to consider that he had come to the honeymoon capital of the world. He tried to move away from the loving couples, but the more he tried the more he was surrounded by physical and emotional displays of affection. 

When he could no longer bear it, he hurried toward a sign that read 'Behind the Falls Tour'. He bought his ticket and walked on to an elevator that took a large group of people down several stories. When the doors opened they were deep underground, with the deafening roar of the falls very close. Renfield walked through the dim corridors until he came upon a sight that stopped him in his tracks. 

At the end of a short tunnel-like corridor was an opening to the back of the falls. The fascinating thing was that the water wasn't falling, it was churning, like a cauldron, before the opening. Renfield was put in mind of the line from Macbeth 'Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble.' He had never seen such a sight, and he was mesmerized. He stared at the water, churning at the opening, almost as if it were the gateway to hell. 

He couldn't help himself. He had to compare this sight with the emotions that would whip up inside of him, if he gave them the chance. Rather than being excited by the sight, as all the other tourists were, Renfield felt an all-encompassing weight move across his soul. He left the 'Behind the Falls Tour' much subdued. 

Exiting the building he was greeted with a rain shower, falling from a completely cloudless blue sky. All the people on the sidewalk were laughing and dancing in the rain. The wind had shifted and the heavy mist from the Falls was now coming down all around them. The rainbow had also shifted positions and now came down very close to Renfield's feet. Far from filling him with the joy and wonderment obvious in the other tourists, Renfield felt a crushing sadness that he had no one to share this special moment with. 

He stayed at the Days Inn that night, wishing away the thoughts of Kerri that crept into his mind like the mist from the Falls.

___________

Renfield spent the next couple of days wandering around the town of Niagara Falls. He felt physically ill most of the time now. He blamed it on the water; everyone got a little ill when they drank unfamiliar water. But, if he had analyzed it objectively, he would have seen that keeping his emotions under wraps as he had was proving to be his undoing. All that turmoil had to find an outlet, and physical illness was how it was manifesting itself in Renfield. He did admit to himself that he was sad, and still very homesick, but he just didn't know how to deal with it. 

On his third day in Niagara he walked up the hill, away from the tourist center, toward the business district, and stumbled across RCMP Headquarters. He assumed, correctly, that this post was home to the officers who manned the US/Canadian border crossing. He sat on a bench across the street and stared at the building. And then he had an idea.

_______________________________________________________

Renfield drove up Parliament Street in Toronto, through the Cabbagetown District, with an address clutched in his hand. It had been so incredibly easy to get; of course he had her correct name, Marie Laurier Brock, his mother. 

Renfield knew in his heart he had not come to Canada in search of his biological mother. He was certain of that. But he also knew that the homesickness he felt would be eased, if not erased completely, as soon as he met her. He drove by the apartment house several times before he finally marshaled the nerve to look for a place to park. The nearest place was almost a mile up Parliament, at the corner of Alicia. He parked the car and began the walk toward the home of the key to his past. 

Parliament was a fascinating street. Once upon a time it had been the commercial center of the working class poor neighborhood of Cabbagetown. In the last few years however, the neighborhood around Parliament Street had been discovered by artsy, creative, classy young Toronto families. The row homes had been renovated and the gardens had been landscaped. The homeless and drug dealers had been run out of the park and the neighborhood made safe for young, well to do mothers to push their carriages and strollers along the sidewalks. Evenings would find young families, with their BMWs and SUVs left parked on the street, strolling through the park and down along the river. Artists perched their easels along the path that ran the length of the river, and they visited with joggers and skaters as they passed. 

Renfield saw none of this as he walked toward his mother's apartment building, however. Parliament Street itself had changed little since the working class poor lived there. It was populated with every type of restaurant known to man, from Greek to Mexican and Indian to Irish. There were Chinese laundries and an Italian florist. A Thai grocer and a Brazilian run variety store. There were also homeless sleeping in doorways and trash on the sidewalks. Parliament was a microcosm of the world, all within ten city blocks. 

The address Renfield sought was at the south end of Parliament, in a section of Cabbagetown that the yuppies had yet to discover. It was nothing more than a tenement. He had to step over two drunks, several discarded mattresses and piles of trash before he could get to her door. By the time he got to the right apartment it was almost dark outside and almost completely dark in the hallway. He stood there for a very long time, just staring at the door, having lost the resolve he had made just this morning in Niagara Falls. Eventually Renfield realized he had nothing to lose, so he knocked on her door. 

The response was painfully slow in coming. He could hear muffled sounds coming from inside the apartment, and heard someone move to the peephole in the door. A muffled voice muttered something he could not hear, and then the door opened against the security chain. 

"What do you want?" 

Renfield spoke to the door. "I'm looking for Marie Laurier . . . Brock. I'm, ah, she's, that is I would like to see her. I understand she lives here. Is that true?" 

The door closed and stayed closed for several long moments. Finally he heard the sound of the chain being drawn back, and the door slowly opened.

________________________________________________________

Kerri reopened the bookshop right on schedule, but without Renfield. She was relieved that none of their friends showed up for the event. Actually, it wasn't much of an event, but she was very glad that she finally had something to occupy her mind. 

A few weeks before they left for Las Vegas, Kerri had hired a new clerk to help her, and he was actually working out very well. Lance Gregory was a graduate student at Northwestern and anxious for the work. He took to Kerri and Renfield immediately, thinking them to be fascinating people. Kerri thought Lance a thorough, dependable employee, the exact opposite of every other clerk she had hired and quickly fired. 

Lance showed up right on time that morning, anxious to get back in the swing of things. He congratulated Kerri and asked after Renfield. He was concerned about the fading bruises on her face, but only mildly curious that Kerri avoided answering questions about her husband and her honeymoon. Lance just assumed that Kerri was reluctant to discuss her personal life with her employee and left it at that. 

Toward the end of the workday however, Lance was becoming concerned about Kerri's behavior. He noticed that she winced whenever she tried to pick up something with her right hand, but that wasn't what bothered him. She just seemed so detached. Several times he noticed that as he spoke to her she didn't seem to be listening, and twice she asked him about something that they had already discussed. He didn't know much about female things and was unaware that she was unable to bear children, so Lance wondered if Kerri might be pregnant. Fortunately, he was discreet enough not to ask. Lance just decided to mind his own business and help Kerri as much as possible. Over the next several days, Lance would become very protective of Kerri. 

Just a few minutes after she locked up that first night, she was brought back downstairs by insistent knocking. She raised the blind prior to unlocking the door. She sighed as she opened the door. "Hello, Detective Vecchio. Sorry, Lieutenant." 

Ray smiled broadly at her. "How about just calling me Ray? Can I come in?" 

"Oh, my, of course. I'm sorry, you just took me by surprise." 

Ray frowned as he walked past her into the building. "Everything okay?" 

"Of course." 

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I need to talk to Turnbull. It's really important. You guys are done with the honeymoon, right?" 

Kerri wanted to laugh out loud, oh yeah, the honeymoon was definitely 'done'. "Yes, I went back to work today. But, uh, Renfield's not here right now--" 

"I can wait, if he's gonna be back pretty soon." Ray hadn't been a detective all these years for nothing. Something was wrong here. "Kerri, is Turnbull okay?" 

"As far as I know, yes." 

"Are you sure? What I've got to tell him is probably gonna make him feel a little better." 

Kerri wasn't quite sure why she was stalling, Renfield was due back at work tomorrow, and she had to assume he wouldn't show up, so all their friends would know soon enough. It was just so hard to admit that her marriage had failed, after only two days. That seemed like something that happened in Hollywood, or somewhere. Well, she might as well get it over with... 

"Ray, Renfield's not here . . . because, because he's left me." 

"Kerri, that's not even funny . . ." As quickly as he'd said the words he realized she was serious. "God, what's happened?" He took her hand and gently drew her into the tearoom, where they both sat down. "Kerri?" 

"He's gone and I don't know where." 

Ray was surprised that she wasn't crying, he certainly felt like it. "Why? Kowalski said you guys were goofy about each other, and even I could tell how head over heels you to were in Las Vegas. Things like this don't happen to people who love each other." Ray took her hand in his, "what happened?" he whispered. 

"René Laurier." 

"God, the evil still exists! The man died, but the spirit lives on. I'm so sorry!" Hey, wait a minute, "why didn't Kowalski or Fraser tell me? You guys are my friends too--" 

"They don't know. No one knows except you." 

"You've been here, by yourself, all week and didn't tell anyone?" Ray was suddenly very angry. "You were beat up and he walked out on you? That son of a bitch!" 

"Ray! He was very upset and confused . . ." 

The hurt look on Kerri's face caused him to immediately rethink his anger. Ray could tell that she might not want to admit it to herself, but only a woman deeply in love would jump to her man's defense this way. Ray would have to enlist the aid of Fraser and Kowalski to straighten all this out. He'd been away a long time, but he could see that Turnbull and Kerri were meant for each other. 

"I'm sorry about calling him a SOB. What can I do to help?" Ray smiled at her again.

Kerri sighed deeply. "Just having someone to talk to has helped a lot. Thanks." She frowned for a moment. "What was it you wanted to tell Renfield?"

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but you look like you could use some good news. Promise me you won't tell anyone, not even Thatcher?" Kerri nodded in agreement and Ray began to smile. "I know Turnbull blamed himself for Sheila's death, but she's not dead! Laurier didn't kill her, that's one thing the jerk couldn't do." 

"Oh, Ray, are you sure?" Kerri whispered. 

Ray beamed at her. "I saw her today. She's off to another undercover assignment, but she had to see me to let me know, she's OKAY!" 

Kerri was so excited she jumped up and threw herself into Ray's arms. "Oh, Ray this is wonderful news! I'm so glad you told me! Sheila was - is such a terrific lady." Her smile faded. "You're right, Renfield would have liked to have known." 

Ray said goodbye to Kerri and left the bookshop. He was on his cell phone practically before he pulled into traffic. Fraser and Kowalski needed to know about this ASAP. 

_______________________________________________________

"So you're the other one. They still call you Renfield?" The woman who answered the door laughed at the tall man with disdain. Renfield recognized her immediately. He didn't know her of course, but he'd seen her before, every day of his life, when he looked in the mirror. Her hair was gray, and her face full of lines, but her eyes were the same bright blue, her nose had the same long, straight line and she had the exact same chin. And her height, well he'd always wondered where his height came from, now he knew. 

"Yes, my name is Renfield. Why do you say 'still'?" 

She laughed even harder. "Because Renfield was a joke! Richard's family had a thing about names that began with 'R' and the asshole read Dracula while we were together. It was a JOKE! René was my father's name, and Renfield went with it so well. I sure as hell didn't think he'd leave it that way." 

She lowered herself into a chair, without so much as motioning for him to be seated too, so Renfield remained standing. 

"How'd you know where to find me?" 

Renfield hated to admit it to himself, but he could tell she was none too happy to be found. "I traced you through René." 

"You know René? You as much of a loser as that good for nothing brother of yours?" 

"I'm sorry, but René is dead. He, uh, died in Las Vegas, a few weeks ago." 

Marie didn't miss a beat, "good riddance!" 

"He was your son! How can you say such a thing?" 

"He was nothing but trouble from the day you both were born. I've always wished I'd taken you, or better yet, left both of you with the asshole and his prissy little wife." 

Renfield felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under him. "So you didn't take him because you loved him?"

Marie laughed hysterically, a laugh that Renfield had heard before, in Armando Langoustini's foyer. "Love? Honey, ain't nobody gonna to love me, and I gotta return the favor." She sized up 'the other one'. "You didn't answer my question. You amount to anything?" 

Renfield hesitated. "My wife and I own a bookshop in Chicago--" 

"God, you're married? Got kids?" 

Renfield sighed. "No . . . she's not able . . ." 

"Thank God! Brats, all of them. You and your poor excuse for a brother, all of you. How I hate kids." 

Renfield didn't know what else to say. Then he remembered something his father had told him. "My father told me you were an artist, so am I." He sounded like a little boy trying desperately to impress his parent. He failed. 

"Ever sell anything?" He shook his head. She stood up and stretched to her full height. "Then, honey, you're a painter, not an artist. There's a difference." She took a long, hard look at 'the other one'. "Danny and I always told René he was the loser, and that I should have taken you. Looks like we were right." 

Renfield was at a loss as to what to say now. He looked around the shabby room. Stained wallpaper and peeling paint. Faded abstract paintings he assumed were hers. Tattered furniture and worn rugs. This is what his life would have been like if she had chosen to take him instead of René.

"Danny was your husband?" 

Marie was lost in thought for a moment. "Son of a bitch that he was. René killed him. He was beating me, but that was nothing new, did it a lot of times. René wasn't protecting me, don't get any ideas that he had any chivalrous thoughts. He just figured he'd get away with it if he were protecting his mommy. I guess it worked. Got me off the hook with the SOB anyway. I guess I should be grateful to René for that at least." She frowned as she shook off the past. "What do you want with me, anyway?" 

"I . . . I . . . just wanted to . . . to . . . meet you . . . I guess. I don't really know . . ." 

"You came all the way from Chicago and you don't know why? You're as nuts as René was." 

Renfield felt an overwhelming pity for René. To grow up with two such people must have been intolerable. And it had almost happened to him. He was suddenly extremely sorry for the horrible things he had said to his father. 

"I'm sorry to have bothered you." 

"Going back to the little woman?" Her sarcasm disgusted him. 

"I'm going back to my posting at the Canadian Consulate." The pride in his voice was unmistakable. 

"You work at a consulate?" She laughed. "What are you, the janitor?" 

"I'm a Constable with the RCMP!" 

"You're a COP? Get the hell out of my place!" she shouted at him. "There is no way I've got a son who's a COP. You bastard, get out!" 

Renfield was more than happy to oblige. Slamming the door behind him he knew that Marie Laurier Brock had been right about one thing, she didn't have a son who was a cop, he could never consider her his mother.

________________________________________________________

Kerri sat in the tearoom with her head buried in her hands for quite a while after Ray left. Well, for better or worse, now everyone would know. She just wasn't sure how she felt about it. On the one hand, she wouldn't have to hide from them anymore, or stall or be evasive. But on the other hand, having everyone know just made his being gone all the more . . . final. Kerri finally decided it didn't really matter how she felt, the situation was no longer under her control. She laughed to herself, kind of like how it was with Renfield. 

Kerri wasn't surprised that within thirty minutes there was another knock on the front door. She was surprised at who was there, or more precisely, who wasn't there. When she raised the shade Benton was standing on the sidewalk, alone. 

"Ray called, and I had to come by to see how you are," he said as she let him in. Once inside the shop, Fraser turned to study her face very closely. 

"Yes, the bruises are almost gone. Actually, I don't think anyone would even notice them anymore." Kerri sighed, knowing full well that that was not what Benton had come to see her about. 

"I didn't mean to stare, sorry. But that's not what . . ." 

Kerri knew how hard it was for Benton to talk about personal matters and was actually touched that he would put aside his discomfort for her. She decided to accept his gesture of friendship and let him off the hook. "I know, Benton, you're here because you're concerned about Renfield." 

"And you. Would you tell me what's happened? Ray just said that Turnbull left, and you don't know where he is." 

"That's about the size of it. He had a horrible fight with his father and . . . me, and then he left. That was well over two weeks ago." 

"May I ask what you fought about?" 

Kerri smiled at her friend. He was her friend too, and not just because of his relationship with Renfield or her relationship with Meg. "After we came home from Las Vegas he . . . well, he wouldn't come near me. He withdrew farther and farther, until I felt I had no other choice, I called his father. I know now that he will never forgive me for that. Richard came to see us and Renfield just blew up. He said some awful things to Richard, and to me." 

Fraser sighed as he ran his thumbnail across his eyebrow. "I was afraid he'd have trouble handling Laurier's . . . death. To shoot a man, whether in self -defense or not, is never an easy thing for any God fearing person, but to have that person be your brother, twin brother, is almost unthinkable." 

"I think he felt like he had killed himself. He was so confused and, and scared, and I just couldn't reach him." Kerri was horrified that she was close to tears. She had cried enough, she would NOT cry again. 

Fraser also saw the tears forming and his heart went out to her. "You told Ray you don't know where Turnbull went?" 

"I have no idea." She laughed quietly. "He sure didn't go to his father." Kerri looked into Fraser's concerned eyes, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but Renfield threatened . . . he threatened to never come back if I sent you after him. He accused us, all of us, of treating him like a child." Fraser recognized Kerri's habit of biting her lip to keep from crying. In the time he had known her he had seen that gesture countless times. He had hoped that after Turnbull gave her the bookshop he would only see it stemming the flow of happy tears. "Did I do that, Benton? Treat him like a child?" she asked softly. 

"I've never seen you treat Turnbull with anything but love. That's what's so amazing about your relationship with him, you both respect each other so much. I'm sure he didn't mean any of what he said." Fraser was a master at hiding what he felt, so Kerri was not able to see the doubt in his mind. 

Kerri tossed her hair over her shoulder and pursed her lips. "Respect or not, he's not coming back. I'm smart enough to figure out at least that much." 

Fraser was stunned, the thought that Turnbull would never come back had not even crossed his mind. "You can't know that, Kerri. He'll come to his senses, he always has." 

"I can't count on that. I won't count on that. I am doing the best I can at getting on with my life. A life without Renfield." 

"When Ray gets back from the conference in Florida we could take some time to look for him?" But Fraser knew that finding Turnbull and convincing him to come back were two entirely different matters. 

"I know you would be able to find him and I firmly believe you would make it look easy, but don't look for him on my account. I know he no longer loves me, I've accepted that. I don't know if I could stand to see him, knowing how he feels --" 

"But how do you feel?" 

"I really don't know. Renfield chose to stop loving me, but he didn't give me the same option. I suppose a part of me will always love him, but the biggest part just can't stand the pain." 

"What will you do if he comes back?" Fraser would bet, not with money mind you, but he'd bet she hadn't thought about that. 

Kerri turned away from him and walked toward the back of the shop. "I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it. But it's a moot point, because he's not going to come back." 

Fraser could tell from the set of her shoulders as he followed her that Kerri firmly believed what she had said. This was far worse than he had imagined. "You can't be sure that-- What's going on in here?" They had come to the back of the building and entered the children's reading room. 

"I'm moving the children's books to a smaller area and putting in CDs and DVDs. My distributor says that it's a great way to make more money. What do you think?" 

Fraser had to stop himself before saying what he really thought. She was eliminating Turnbull from her life - no, he had already done that, and she was just trying to deal with it. 

He had some graphic memories of the things that had gone on in this room. Seeing Turnbull reading 'A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court' dressed as Merlin the Magician brought a smile to his face. He would forever have etched in his mind the vision of Turnbull reading 'Peter Pan' to the children. The image of Renfield Turnbull in green tights was . . . well it was worth forgetting. 

"Are you sure this is what you really want to do?" 

Kerri was immediately defensive. "Yes! I don't have a second income to help run this place on now, and I . . ." her voice cracked, "I need the money." 

Fraser felt an almost uncontrollable desire to take her in his arms but resisted the urge. He just wasn't sure what to do. 

Kerri realized Fraser was not in favor of the changes she was making, and felt she needed to change the subject. "Where's Meg?" 

'Of course!' Fraser thought, 'Meg will know what to do to help Kerri. They've become such good friends.' Unfortunately . . . "She's in Ottawa. Inspector Meers called her to testify in a legal proceeding regarding one of her former superior officers. She won't be back for several days." 

Kerri was extremely disappointed not to be able to talk to her friend, but she'd survive. She was getting very good at surviving. 

"May I help you with any of this?" 

Kerri was again touched by Benton's concern. She was proud to call him her friend. "No, thank you. I'm pretty much done for the day. I still get awfully tired." Seeing his concern she hurried on, "but I'm much better. My shoulder is still a little sore, especially after I fell . . ." Oh damn, she hadn't meant to tell anyone about that! 

"You fell? Did you aggravate the injury? Did you see a doctor? When--" 

"I'm fine, Benton. I just tripped over Dickens. He's been very solicitous since . . . for the last few weeks, and he just got in my way. Please, I will be fine. Lance is here during the day, and I have plenty to occupy myself in the evenings. I'll be fine." Fraser followed her to the front door. "Don't tell Meg about any of this, please? She's too far away to do anything, and she'll just worry--" 

"I'm sorry Kerri, I'm afraid I can't do that. Meg will have to know, because if he doesn't report for work tomorrow, Constable Turnbull will be AWOL."

______________________________________________________

Renfield left the path and walked across the neatly manicured grass. The markers lay flat against the ground, but he knew where he was going. This place, down the hill and right under the elm tree was only just a few rows away from Melanie and Meghan. He'd always wondered if they were together now, his mother, his wife and his daughter, a grandmother, a mother and a child. God, how he missed all of them! But today he was here to talk specifically to his mum. 

He found the stone in the grass and stared at the inscription before laying flowers next to it. He knew it was silly to come here to talk to her but he felt so close to her here and he always had. 

"Hi, Mum. It's been a long time, I know, but I had to come to say I'm sorry. For the briefest time I forgot how much you loved me and how much I loved you. I found out about Marie Laurier and René and I was very angry with you and Dad for not telling me." He hung his head at the admission. "I understand now why you never told me, it was to protect me from being hurt. Just like you always did, huh? You were protecting me. I'm sorry I forgot that. You are the best Mum any son could ever ask for . . . and I . . . .I miss you." He sighed as he told her the rest. "Kerri's never going to forgive me for the way I treated her. She tried to help me and I turned on her. Why do I always do that, turn my anger toward the one's I love the most?" He hung his head and shuffled his feet. "I'm sorry Mum, please forgive me?" 

He closed his eyes and prayed for a moment before he walked away with tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips. He knew beyond any doubt that his mother forgave him.

___________

He had spoken to his mother, now it was time to speak with his father. Renfield stood on the sidewalk outside the house where he'd grown up. For the first time in his life he was unsure whether or not he would be welcome here. He stood for the longest time, memories flooding in upon him, bringing with them lightness to his soul, and tears to his eyes. 

He took in the wide porch with the hanging baskets of pink and white geraniums. He could never remember their names, but his dad knew the variety of every plant in his garden. The wicker rocking chairs needed tending to. They usually had a fresh coat of paint by this time. His dad obviously had other things on his mind. The garden needed weeding too. It was unlike his father to ignore his garden. 

Renfield remembered as if it were yesterday when he had tripped over his big feet and fallen off the porch. He couldn't have been more than four at the time, and he cried hysterically as the blood poured from his chin. He remembered his mum scooping him up and holding him close as his father drove them to the hospital. He had cried for his mum as the nurse tried to take him from her, and his mum had refused to let him go. She held him tightly as the doctor put stitches in his chin. He remembered vividly, when it was all over, asking her why she was crying too. She had told him that when he hurt she hurt too, and that's what being his mum was all about, sharing the good stuff and the bad stuff. 

He remembered just as easily a time he had yelled at her. They were standing on the porch with his friends and she wouldn't let him go off and play before he had finished his homework. It was shortly before she died, so he must have been about twelve, and he thought he knew everything, he was certainly smarter than his mother was. He smiled as he remembered her interceding for him with his dad when he had failed history that year. And he remembered the long evenings during that summer when, after working in the bakery all day and fixing dinner for him and his dad, she had helped him to catch up with his studies. 

Renfield hoped that his father loved him as much as his mum had and could be as forgiving as she had been. For the first time in his life he knocked on the front door, rather than just walking in. 

If his dad was surprised to see him, Renfield did not see it on his face. "Hello, Dad. May I please come in?" 

"I told you a long time ago you'd always be welcome here, Son." Richard held the door open, both to his home and to his heart, and let his son walk in. 

Renfield walked to the center of the living room and stood with his back to his father. "I've made a real mess of things, haven't I?" 

Richard smiled as he tried to lighten Renfield's mood. "It wouldn't be the first time." When his son didn't turn to face him, Richard continued, "Son, I made the biggest mistake." He walked up behind his son and put his arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry we never told you about your brother." 

Renfield turned to face his father, and before he knew it his father held him in his arms. Just as he had for most of Renfield's life, Richard comforted his son. "It's going to be okay now, the anger has passed. Things can start to return to normal." When Renfield did not respond, Richard continued, "things can return to normal?" 

"The things I've done . . . the things I said . . . you must be so ashamed of me . . ." 

Richard pushed his son to arm's length and looked him in the eye. "Renfield, sit down. I know I've told you this before, but it bears repeating, especially now." Richard made sure that his son was comfortable before he began to say what he knew Renfield needed to hear. "When my grandfather came to this country he wanted nothing more in life than to leave a legacy to his children and his children's children. The only thing he knew was baking, so he did the obvious. When he died he left the bakery to my father and my Uncle James. When James was killed in North Africa during World War II my father never missed a beat, he took over the business and he and my mum ran it until the day he died.

"Then my mum ran the whole thing single handedly until I was old enough to take it over. Only I didn't want to do it, I had to see the world. Just like my Uncle James, I thought I wanted to be more than the son of a baker. It took me awhile, but I finally realized that I couldn't change who I was. Being the son of a baker - being a baker was, and is who I am, and it's been a pretty darn good life, and has been something I am proud of." Richard tried to smile at Ren, but his son wasn't looking at him, but out the window at the yard where he had played as a child. "Renfield, the point of all this is that we all have choices to make. When you chose to be a teacher, and then later to join the RCMP I was very proud of your choice. I was disappointed at first, sure, but being my son doesn't mean you have to be what I am. You chose you're path and I'm proud of the choices you've made. I have never been ashamed of you in your entire life." 

Richard smiled at the sheepish grin from his son. "If you can forgive me for keeping the truth from you, I can certainly forgive you for the things you said. It's time we moved on . . ." 

Renfield moved from where he was sitting to stand and stare at the yard. When he turned back to face his father there were tears in his eyes. 

"Ren, what is it?" 

Renfield hung his head and shuffled his feet, just as he had done at the cemetery earlier in the day, and the year he had failed history. "Renfield?" 

Mortified at breaking down in front of his father, Renfield tried to quickly dry his tears. "I . . . I was so upset, I took it all out on Kerri. I said some awful things to her . . . before I left." 

"You left her?" Richard was flabbergasted. Renfield just nodded. "Dear God, Renfield, when?" 

"She didn't call you? I was sure . . . but no, I threatened . . . dear God, Dad, she'll never forgive me for what I did." He looked like he was about to lose him composure again. 

"How long have you been gone?" 

"Over two weeks." 

"And you haven't talked to her?" 

"No, Sir." 

"Where have you been?" 

"Among other things, I . . . I tracked down Marie Laurier . . . Brock." 

Richard was rendered speechless, and Renfield saw him pale considerably. He helped his father to a chair and ran to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. Richard drank down the entire glass before he could speak. "After all these years, you . . . you found her? We searched everywhere . . . we wanted so much to have both of you with us, we tried so hard to find them. How did you--" 

"It wasn't hard to track her down, René was an escaped felon, she was listed as his next of kin. I'm sorry, Dad, I had to meet her. I thought she would love me, I needed her . . . needed her to tell me about my brother. I thought . . ." He hung his head in shame. "I don't know what I thought." 

When Richard made no attempt to reply, Renfield could tell he had hurt him very deeply, again. "I went to see Mum today." 

"You went to the cemetery?" Richard whispered. "Why?" 

"To apologize . . . and to tell her I love her, and that she was . . . and is, the best mum a son could ever have. Remember how she loved red and white carnations, the ones that smell like spice? I took her some." Renfield hesitated, "I need to tell you the same things I told her. I'm sorry Dad, for the things I said, and for the way I hurt you. I should have never done--" 

Richard just shook his head in dismay. "You may physically resemble Marie Laurier, but sometimes you are so much like me, so much like all of us, it's scary." Renfield wrinkled his brow in confusion. "One thing the Turnbull men all have had in common is the women we choose to spend our lives with. I never knew my grandmother, but my mother was one of the strongest women I have ever known. Lizzy was even stronger and loved me in spite of myself. She loved you as much as if you were her own." Richard laughed softly to himself, "and I have never been prouder of you than the day I met Kerri. You know, of course, that she is the only woman in the world for you? None of us, my father, me or you would have amounted to a hill of beans without them. 

"I can forgive you for the things you said to me, but I can never forgive you if you let her get away. She is the only one who is blameless here, and the one who's been hurt the most. You have got to go back to Chicago and win her back. Lizzy came back to me, Kerri has to come back to you." Richard's intensity surprised Renfield. "I've tried to teach you to be your own man, and I've never tried to direct your path, but," Richard pushed his son toward the door, "and this is an order, get out of here and go to her. Do you want me to call her and tell her you're okay?" 

Renfield smiled at his father's offer. Two weeks ago he would have thought he was being treated like a child. Now he knew his father offered his help only out of love. "Thanks, Dad, but I need to handle this myself. I appreciate the offer though." 

Richard watched his son drive away. "Lizzy, he really needs you. You were always the one who could get through to him. It's been more than twenty years and he still needs you, we both still need you, honey," he whispered as he closed the door.

__________

Kerri awoke the morning after Benton's visit knowing she needed to make a change. More than just clearing out the reading room, she needed to treat herself to . . . something. Once upon a time that something would have been chocolate, but this circumstance called for something a little more drastic. As she got ready to open the shop she spotted a magazine cover and knew exactly what that something was. 

She had another . . . errand. . . downtown anyway, so she made the appointment. She left Lance in charge and set out on her adventure. After her appointment with Stanley Perdue, her attorney, she dried her tears and proceeded to Spa Paradiso Salon and Day Spa, where she'd made an appointment for 'the works'. 

Kerri hadn't treated herself to such a luxury in, well, she'd never treated herself to such a luxury, so it was about time. It was with only minor trepidation that she entered the spa at her appointed time.

__________

Claude, the hair stylist, had asked her three times if she really wanted to do it and all three times she had been sure. Now that it was done, well, she wasn't so sure anymore. But what was done couldn't be undone. Like it or not, Kerri would have to live with yet another life changing decision. 

As she left the spa Claude shook his head. "It's has to be divorce, death or turning fifty. Those are the only times women want to make a change like that. She sure isn't fifty, so someone must have left her, or died. I tried to talk her out of it, I really did. But she was determined. It does look okay doesn't it?" He turned to his companion for a comforting word. 

Carlos took him in his arms. "Your work is always manifique! Tres manifique!" Claude was vastly relieved.

__________

By the time Kerri returned to the shop it was almost closing time. She hesitated as she walked through the back door. Dickens bounded toward the sound of the door opening but slid to a halt upon seeing her and growled. Lance was close behind. 

"I'm glad you're ba . . . back! Detective Kowalski has been waiting for you for an hour, and he's about to drive me nuts!" Lance liked Kerri far too much to make any further comment. 

Ray came toward the storeroom at the first sound of Kerri's voice ready to yell at, or comfort her, he had yet to decide which. As soon as he saw her he decided. "What the hell have ya done ta your hair?" Her beautiful, long blonde hair was now almost as short as his and was bordering on being . . . pink. It was the most god-awful thing he had ever seen. 

"Nice to see you too, Stanley. I got it cut. I wanted a change. I thought . . . " Kerri burst in to tears and ran up the stairs. 

"Oh, that was real good, Mr. Tact. How could you say something like that to her?" Lance was about three steps behind Kerri when Ray grabbed his arm. 

"No, I'll go. I'm the one who opened my big mouth and inserted my foot - again." Why the hell was he always saying the wrong thing to her? 

He found Kerri on the bed in the guestroom, crying her eyes out. He hesitated to enter, he'd had fantasies about her in this room, and it scared the hell out of him, but he just couldn't bear to see her cry. 

"Kerri, I'm sorry. I didn't mean ta hurt yer feelins. It just took me by surprise, that's all." He sat on the bed next to her and tried to pull her into his arms. 

"It l-looks aw-awful," she sobbed. 

Ray laughed. "There's not one thing bout you that 'looks awful'. Yer the most beautiful woman I've ever met. Pink hair 'n all." 

Kerri sat up, sniffed, and wiped her eyes. "It's not pink, it's supposed to be strawberry blonde." 

Ray touched her bangs. "Sorry, honey, it's pink." 

His grin was infectious and Kerri began to chuckle softly. "It is, isn't it? I really just wanted something a little different--"

He grabbed some tissues and dabbed her eyes. That's when he saw the tiny scar at the outside corner of her eye. He frowned briefly and then grinned again. "Well, ya sure got different." 

He watched her for several moments before continuing. "Honey, why didn't ya call me? I coulda helped. I promised ta look out fer you guys, 'n I blew it." 

"He didn't want anyone's help, Ray. He . . . just didn't want anyone around, not even me." 

"Fraser said ya don't want us ta find him?" He was having an awful time getting past her very short, pink hair. 

"It wouldn't do any good. You can't force him to come back, and I don't want him to come back here." 

That's what Fraser had said, but Ray still didn't believe it. "Kerri, look me in the eye 'n tell me ya don't love Turnbull." 

She looked straight at him. "It doesn't matter what I feel, he doesn't love me. And you know as well as I do it takes two. I've been through a lot these past few weeks too, and I do not have the strength to hold up both ends of this relationship. So, to answer your question," she paused only briefly, "no, I do not love Renfield, at least not enough to try anymore." Kerri got up and left the stunned Kowalski alone.

_______________________________________________________________

Renfield returned to Chicago totally unaware of all that had happened while he was gone. He hadn't been in touch with anyone, at first because he didn't want to see, let alone speak to any of them, and later, much later, because he was ashamed of what he'd done. He promised himself he would spend the rest of his life making it up to Kerri. He had to smile, his dad had done much the same thing with his mum. 

He came to stand in front of the dry cleaners across the street from the bookshop shortly before closing time. He desperately wanted to run in there right this minute, but knew he needed to wait until the last customer was gone. 

While he waited he let his mind wander back to the days before he had bought the building. Mr. Murphy had talked about retiring ever since they had known him, and Kerri loved the bookshop so much. When she had gotten sick, and been so terribly depressed, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to buy the place for her. They'd been happy there, and Renfield was determined that they would be again. 

He smiled as he remembered the day he'd presented it to her. There were few times he could remember that he'd been able to render her speechless. It had tickled him to death to see her face and hear the applause from the spectators on the sidewalk. She had even loved that silly puppy. Yes, he was determined that they would be happy there again. 

Renfield saw Lance preparing to lock the front door and proceeded to cross the street. He was confused because he knew Lance had seen him, but he locked the door anyway. Renfield was forced to knock on the door of the building he owned, and he was not pleased. 

A response was very slow in coming. Finally, after he knocked a second time, Lance let him in. "What do you want, Mr. Turnbull?" Renfield was shocked at the anger in Lance's voice. He was normally a rather mild mannered man.

"To begin with, I live here, and I would like to see my wife. You can leave now." 

"I'll wait for Kerri to tell me to leave, if you don't mind." 

"Lance, are you talking to Dickens again?" Kerri called from upstairs. 

"No, there's someone here to see you. I won't leave until you come down." Lance shouted the words up the stairs, but they were meant for Renfield's ears. 

They heard her coming down the stairs, moving noticeably slower now than in months past. "Who's-- " She stopped dead with one foot still on the bottom step. 

"Hello, Kerri," Renfield was so glad to see her it caused him physical pain to restrain himself from sweeping her into his arms. 

"I think you can go now Lance," she whispered. 

"Are you sure? I can stay if you need me . . . for anything." 

Kerri turned to him and smiled. She knew exactly what he meant, and she loved him for it. "No, I'll be fine. Really, go home and enjoy your evening." 

"Call me if you need anything . . . any help." Lance really didn't want to go, and even thought about calling for help. "You want me to call Detective Kowalski?" he whispered to her as she let him out. 

"No. I'll be fine. I promise to call if I need anything. Thanks, Lance. Goodnight." 

Before she had finished locking the door Renfield came up behind her. "You cut your hair," he whispered. 

"Yes." 'At least it's not pink anymore,' she thought. 

Renfield had no idea that it was already a sore point with her, so he continued, "I've always liked it long." 

"Well, I needed a change, and you weren't here to consult." 

He realized he'd said something he shouldn't and tried desperately to remember the eloquent speech he'd prepared for this moment. He couldn't remember a word. Then he noticed the mess in his reading room. 

"What's happened here?" he asked, alarmed. 

"Renfield, why are you here?" 

He didn't know what to say. Kerri had never been so cold toward him. "I live here," he whispered. 

Kerri's reaction surprised him. She just stared. He thought he saw fear in her eyes momentarily, and then resignation. 

Without a word she turned and went back upstairs. Confused, Renfield followed. He stood in the doorway to their bedroom and watched as she pulled out her old suitcase and started to pack. "Kerri, why are you packing?" 

"If you're going to move back here then I have to find another place to live." 

"This is your home-- " 

"You own the building." 

"But I gave it to you, you know that-- " 

"No Renfield, I don't know that. And you are the sole owner, according to Stanley Perdue." 

"What? You went to see our attorney? Why?" 

"I had to know what my options were. Since you own the bookshop and the apartment, apparently I have very few." 

She continued to pack as Renfield stumbled over his words. "This bookshop was always for you, I never meant it for just me! I gave it to you. It's in my name because I wanted to surprise you. This is your home, Kerri, please don't leave. We can work something out . . ." This conversation sounded eerily familiar. 

Kerri stopped packing long enough to look at him. She desperately wanted to stay here, she loved this place so much. But to stay this close to Renfield was more than she could stand. They could not both live here. She would have to figure something . . . 

Renfield interrupted her thoughts. He was standing near the closet, frowning at the uniform hanging there. "Kerri, what happened to my tunic? It looks like someone slept in it." 

"Someone did. I was lonely and you weren't here." Kerri shrugged her shoulders and admitted the truth matter-of-factly. "I needed you to hold me and you wouldn't, so I slept with it. As simple as that. I'll get it cleaned tomorrow." 

Dear God! He'd known he'd hurt her he just hadn't realized how much. He'd been right when he had told his dad she'd never forgive him. "God, Kerri, I'm so sorry. I never meant-- " 

"I'm going to bed now." 

"Kerri, it's only 8:00. Maybe we could talk a little bit?" 

"I've been sleeping a lot lately." Without another word she left the room and went into the guestroom. It was then Renfield realized she'd been sleeping on that horribly uncomfortable little bed, obviously avoiding their bed. If he'd had a gun at that moment he would have shot himself for how he'd hurt her.

_______________________________________________________________

Kerri awoke the next morning to the most wonderful aroma. For a brief moment she was back in time several weeks, and Renny was cooking her breakfast. But when she turned over in the horribly lumpy bed she remembered. Renny had left her and would never cook breakfast for her again. Renfield had come back to the bookshop, but this would never again be their home. 

She got up, showered, and got ready for work. Walking into the kitchen she ignored the poached eggs with asparagus and lemon dill sauce and peameal bacon, her very favorite breakfast, and grabbed a granola bar. She also ignored the man who had prepared them. 

Lance showed up, on time as usual, without one question. Kerri silently blessed his discretion. Their morning was uneventful, rather busy, but nothing they couldn't handle. Kerri was grateful that they were busy enough for her to keep her mind off her problems. But by lunchtime she was famished. The granola bar she had eaten four hours earlier had long since worn off, and she was anxious to get upstairs and find something to eat. 

She smelled the familiar aroma before she was halfway up the stairs. Tomato soup and grilled cheese, the same lunch he had fixed for her when he'd brought her home from Meg's after her miscarriage. Renfield was trying hard to make up with her, but Kerri found she didn't care. She grabbed a banana and went back to work without even noticing Renfield's crestfallen look. 

Kerri and Lance worked late that night, Kerri not wanting to venture upstairs, and Lance not wanting to leave her alone. Finally she could no longer deny that she was completely done in. "Lance, don't you have a life? Why don't you go home and get some rest, or better yet, find a girl and have a nice dinner somewhere?" 

Lance was touched that she could be concerned for him when so much was wrong with her own life. "My life is here, among these tomes . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence before they both laughed. It was so good to hear Kerri laugh. "I'll stay here as long as you need me." 

"I don't need you - go home!" She smiled at the young man, "thanks for your concern. I'm sorry that you have to be involved in all this. You're help is certainly worth more than I'm able to pay you." 

"Ah, but the experience is worth it." Lance laughed again, as he headed for the door. "Call me if you need anything." He glanced at her arm just briefly, but Kerri caught the look. 

Dear God, no! "Lance, you don't think Renfield was responsible for the bruises I had?" Kerri was horrified that anyone would think that Renfield was capable of such a thing, and from the look on Lance's face she realized that's exactly what he thought. "Oh, no! He would never do such a thing! We . . . we just ran into some, some trouble in Las Vegas. Please, you have to believe me, I don't want you to think that of Renfield." 

Lance still wasn't too sure. He'd seen the way Kerri had reacted to seeing her husband and put two and two together. "You wouldn't lie just to protect him?" 

Kerri had to think about that a moment. Would she lie to protect Renfield? She had to admit to herself that she wasn't sure. "I don't know. Someday maybe I'll tell you about what happened in Las Vegas, but I want you to know that none of it was Renfield's fault. What's happened since, well, he just had a lot of things to deal with, and he didn't do it very well." 

Lance was convinced, but just barely. If he saw any more evidence of abuse he'd have to report it . . . but all their friends were cops, so who the heck would he tell? Kerri locked up behind him and left a slightly confused grad student standing on the street. 

Kerri trudged up the stairs to their apartment, only vaguely aware of the aroma from the kitchen wafting her way. At the top of the stairs she was greeted with one of Renfield's fairyland table settings and chicken Caruso, the very first meal he had ever cooked for her. She saw him standing by the table, ready to pull a chair out for her, with a hopeful look on his face. 

Kerri proceeded to the guest bedroom and prepared for bed, giving the look of profound hurt on Renfield's face only a passing glance. 

Renfield stared after Kerri as she closed the bedroom door behind her. He still had not had the opportunity to apologize to her for how he had treated her, and he knew now he would probably never get that opportunity. He had no one to blame but himself. He had left her, after all. Being more concerned with his own feelings, he had walked out on her, leaving her alone to suffer the pain of her beating. He'd even warned her not to ask for help from their friends. He deserved no more from her than he was getting, but it was killing him.

_______________________________________________________________

Renfield spent the rest of the evening staring at the moon shining in their bedroom window. He tried his best not to think of the first time he and Kerri had made love, in the moonlight in his old apartment, but it was impossible to resist the moon's magnetism. He had been happier then than at any other time in his life. He thought back to the day that he had met Kerri and how he'd fallen in love with her almost from that moment. She was so beautiful and she had chosen him! Chosen him over Constable Fraser! It still tickled him to think of it. 

Dear God, he'd hurt her so badly! She had to forgive him. He had to convince her to forgive him, he just didn't know if he could ever forgive himself. 

Just as Kerri avoided their bed, Renfield couldn't bear to sleep there either. He chose to sleep on the floor. In preparing for a night's sleep he opened his drawer in their dresser to put away his watch. What he found there told him that he would never be able to convince Kerri to forgive him. 

On their wedding night she had told him she would never take them off, that they symbolized their love, and as long as she lived she would never remove the rings he had given her. But there they were, tossed carelessly in his drawer. 

He took the tiny rings into his large hand and squeezed them until they cut into his flesh. Never in his life had he felt so lost, so completely desolate. Kerri had done everything she could, short of ordering him off the premises, to show him she didn't love him anymore. Well now he knew, and now he accepted it. Heaven help him, now he accepted it. 

He took the rings into the kitchen and found a pen and paper. He wrote her a short note and then grabbed the still packed duffel bag and left their home. 

He was back to walking the streets of Chicago, but this time he had a destination. He knew where he could find a place to sleep in the comfort of familiar surroundings and a place to bury his pain. He headed for the Consulate.

_______________________________________________________________

Bright and very early Monday morning Meg arrived for work. Since Ben had moved in with her she found she rose very early. While he took Diefenbaker for a walk, she got an early start on the day's business. Inserting her key in the lock, she was extremely surprised to find the door already unlocked. Her surprise at finding the door open was nothing compared to the surprise that awaited her once she was inside. 

Startled by her early arrival, Constable Turnbull snapped to attention, upending his chair in the process. They stared at each other of several seconds without speaking. Meg was at once thrilled that he was back unharmed and in one piece, and furious that he was back unharmed and in one piece. How dare he be okay after they had worried about him so much! She had actually lost sleep over his disappearance! 

"It's nice of you to grace us with your presence, Constable. Pick up your chair!" She continued into her office and slammed the door. 

Meg marched across the thickly padded carpet of her office and plopped down into her chair. How dare he! At least he could have had amnesia, or been in a coma, or hit by a bus! How dare he leave them all, especially Kerri, hanging like that? 'Oh my God,' she thought, 'does Kerri know he's back?' 

Well, she had to do something about him. He'd been AWOL for a week; he couldn't possibly expect her to ignore what he'd done. But she had to be careful here. Discipline for insubordination was one thing, but she could not discipline him for hurting her friend. 

After fretting about what she would do, and allowing herself enough time to calm down, Meg summoned Turnbull. 

"Well?" 

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" 

"What have you got to say for yourself? 

"Pardon?" 

"Where have you been? Do you realize you have been AWOL for a week? I hope you don't think I can ignore what you have done just because I am friends with your wife . . . with Kerri?" 

Turnbull was horrified. "Oh, no Sir! I would never expect special treatment because . . . because . . . " He could not go on. 

"So, are you going to tell me where you have been? I assume you have a legitimate explanation." 'Please give me something, some excuse, some reason to let you off the hook', she thought. 

"No, Ma'am." 

"What do you mean 'no'?" 

"I have no excuse." 

"You realize an official reprimand will be placed in your personnel file, and that appropriate disciplinary action will be taken?" 

"Yes, Sir." 

"I will be in touch with Ottawa regarding this matter, Constable." 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Dismissed." 

Turnbull was almost to the door when Meg called to him softly, "Renfield, is everything all right?" 

He wanted to laugh. "Not really," he answered without turning around. 

"Is there anything I can do?" 

Renfield hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. He thought about his response for several seconds. "Well, actually there is. Since Constable Fraser is no longer living here, I was wondering if . . . if I could . . . . . stay in the back office for . . . for a while?" 

"Is that what you want?" Meg whispered. 

This time Renfield did laugh. "Not really, but it's obviously what Kerri wants." 

'Dear God!' "Of course, Renfield, you may stay here as long as . . . as necessary."

_______________________________________________________________

Insistent pounding on the door brought Kerri down the stairs in a rush. It actually scared her that someone would be pounding on her door like that. Dickens was apparently very upset too, if his insistent barking was any indication.

"Shh, it's okay boy. Someone just doesn't realize that we're closed on Sundays." She drew back the blind, and was greeted with the most outlandish outfit she had ever seen. She didn't notice the woman's face, her eyes instantly drawn to the multi-colored kaftan she wore. It reminded Kerri of something she had seen in pictures and movies from the 1960s, garish tie-dyed fabric in primary colors. The woman wore enough silver on her wrists to supply the US Mint for a month. There were various stones imbedded in the silver, turquoise being predominate. Kerri's eyes drifted to the woman's neck, where she wore even more silver, chains with all manner of symbols hanging from them. 

When she recovered from her initial shock, Kerri looked at the woman's face and immediately opened the door. As the woman rushed passed her in a huff, Kerri was almost overcome with the smell of musk that hung over the woman and extended out at least ten feet in all directions. Kerri had let her in because she recognized her instantly; this woman was Renfield's mother. 

While the woman sized up her surroundings and Kerri, Kerri finished studying the outlandish outfit and the woman who wore it. She wore a turban on her head almost completely concealing her gray hair. Kerri wondered if this woman had gotten stuck in a time warp, and thought the date was somewhere around July 1 . . . 1967. 

Kerri was shocked at herself for being so rude, and was about to introduce herself, when the woman started barking out orders. "I want to see him!" 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"The other one, the twin, the joke, Renfield! Where is he?" 

The woman's tone immediately put Kerri on the defensive. "And you are?" 

Renfield's mother looked at Kerri as if she didn't have a brain in her head. Kerri was used to such looks, usually from men, who thought because of her face and figure she must be a 'dumb blonde'. They all sorely underestimated Kerri. 

"Who I am is none of your concern. I want to see Renfield!" 

"I am the proprietor of this shop and if you have business here, you have it with me!" Kerri did not like this woman one little bit and intended to make her earn every piece of information she wanted. 

"I am Marie Laurier." 

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" 

"I am Renfield's mother!" She hesitated, "God, what a joke of a name! Where is he!" It was more of a demand than a question. 

"Renfield is not here. If you wish to see him, leave a message and I will ensure he gets it." Every word the woman said infuriated Kerri even more. And this was her mother-in-law! Good God! 

"And who are you?" 

Kerri tried to calm herself. "My name is Kerri Turnbull. Renfield is my husband." 

"God, the loser's wife! No kids right?" 

"Right," Kerri whispered. 

"Hate kids, got the dregs with the two I had. Speaking of which, when's he gonna be back? Didn't come all this way to wait." 

"Did Renfield know you were coming?" Kerri doubted that very much. 

"Nah," Marie laughed, "last time I saw him he was high tailing it out of my apartment. Threw the bastard out. Mountie, indeed!" 

Kerri's heart broke for Renfield. "Why would you want to see him then?" 

"René's dead. Need 'the other one' to help me out. Figure he's gotta have some money, owning a business 'n all." 

Kerri felt an overpowering need to protect Renfield well up inside of her. Now she had her answer: yes, she would lie to protect Renfield. "He doesn't own this business, I do. He's not here because I threw him out. We're getting a divorce. As to him having any money, Mounties make very little salary, especially with as little seniority as he has. He taught school prior to joining the force, taught small children, six and seven year olds. He loves children, especially small ones, a great deal." Kerri smiled to herself as she saw Marie react to her statement. Marie was disgusted. Good! 

"A Mountie and a teacher? God, he can't possibly be my son!" Marie started to smile. "Threw him out, huh? Good riddance! Just like I told him, he and his good for nothing brother aren't worth a thing. Too bad though, wasted all that money getting here." She was lost in thought a moment. "You keep it up, honey, don't take him back. You keep this business and get as much alimony, or whatever they call it here, as you can. All men are sons of bitches!" Marie left the bookshop with a flourish, almost closing her kaftan in the door.

Dickens growled at the retreating woman. Kerri scratched his head and agreed with him, "you got that right!" Kerri was amazed at how perceptive the pup had become.

_______________________________________________________________

Kerri thought about Renfield's mother for a very long while after she flew out of the bookshop. It was very hard not to, the 'fragrance' of the woman lingered long after she was gone. What a totally disgusting woman! She frowned deeply, all that woman needed was a broom! What a witch! She felt rather sorry for René, what must it have been like, growing up the son of someone who obviously didn't love you? No wonder he hated women! Kerri found that she could almost forgive him for the way he treated her, not quite, but almost. She would never be able to forgive him for the way he treated Renfield, however. And she would never be able to forgive Marie for the loathing she didn't hesitate to voice regarding Renfield. 

As she thought about Marie it hit her like a bolt of lightning, Renfield had been to see her, and she had treated him just like she had treated René, with contempt. 'Poor Renny, er, Renfield,' she thought, 'all he wanted was a mother's love. And all he got was contempt.' Kerri's heart broke for him. 

Then she realized what she had done. She was no better than Marie, Renfield had come home, anxious to make amends with her in any way he could and she had rejected him. Sure he had hurt her, but what had the 'minister' asked her not a month before, 'til ya both die'? Obviously she hadn't meant what she'd promised. 

Kerri felt the sky open and love for Renfield rain down upon her. She had been so wrong, they both had been wrong. She had promised Richard that she wouldn't let Renfield push her away, and then she turned right around and pushed him away. Kerri wasn't sure what she was going to do, but she knew she had to do something, and quickly. 

She grabbed her keys and ran for the door. Then she remembered and ran to the alley. 

She had thrown his note away, without ever reading it. She searched through the trash like a mad woman, knowing it was still there, somewhere at the bottom. She had to know what he'd written to her. More than anything in her life, she had to know! 

Finally she found it, wadded up and smashed against an empty soup can. Her hands shook as she tenderly smoothed out the crinkled paper. It read - 

'Dear Kerri, You will never know how sorry I am that I hurt you. I will never forgive myself for the way I treated you, and I know now that you will never be able to forgive me either. I have no excuses to offer, only my profound apology. These rings are yours, even though you may never wear them again, I want you to have them. They represent so much more than just love, they represent the commitment I made to you long before we ever went to Las Vegas. 

I pray that someday you might wear them again. I will wait for you forever, and longer. 

Renny' 

More than any other part of the note, the signature got through to her heart. She ran up the stairs and grabbed her rings. She then ran down the stairs, through the shop and out the front door before Dickens even had the chance to run after her.

_______________________________________________________________

Since returning to duty barely a week before, Renfield had worked day and night, accomplishing an amazing amount in his effort to keep busy. Inspector Thatcher and Constable Fraser were astonished that the man was capable of so much quality from that much quantity. 

Fraser did notice that Turnbull had become rather clumsy again but sympathized. Love, especially the unrequited kind, could make a man do some very peculiar things, he knew. He just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as he watched Turnbull trip UP the stairs while carrying a stack of freshly laundered towels. Fortunately, the towels broke his fall, otherwise Turnbull would probably have broken some vital body part. Both Meg and Fraser were eternally grateful that the assorted crockery around the Consulate seemed to be safe, for the time being at least. 

To those who knew him only as a casual acquaintance, there seemed to be little change in Constable Turnbull, but to those who knew him well, especially Meg, Fraser and Ray, the changes were profound. He was no longer the happy, forever smiling, personable young Constable that they found so infuriating - and so endearing. He was still pleasant to be around but they all noticed how disconnected he seemed, living in but not participating in the world around him. Oh, he smiled when necessary, but only when necessary, and never with conviction. 

None of his friends seemed to know what to do about the situation. In a vain attempt to cheer him up, Vecchio asked him to come to a hockey game with him, Fraser and Kowalski. 

"Thanks, Ray, but I think I'll just catch up on some work here this evening." 

"Come on man, life goes on, ya can't hide here forever." Ray could tell he'd overstepped his bounds with his new friend. "Sorry, buddy. I know this is a big mess, I just wanna help." 

"Understood." Turnbull answered a ringing phone and effectively ended the conversation. 

Early that evening Renfield was alone in the Consulate, trying his best to bury himself in mounds of paperwork. He had the fax machine cranking out reports from Ottawa and the copy machine humming printing reams of handouts for Inspector Thatcher's next quarterly budget meeting. 

He was pleased with the progress he was making, but slightly concerned that he might run out of work before he was exhausted enough to fall into a dreamless sleep. It was just about this time that the 'low toner' light lit up the control panel of the copy machine. 

"Drat!" Knowing that he was more all thumbs than usual when it came to warning messages on this blasted machine, Renfield dreaded having to change the toner cartridge, but if he wanted to continue working . . . he went to the supply closet to find a cartridge. 

The fax machine and his computer printer were working overtime as he returned to the cramped, stuffy copy room with the toner. He spent the next several minutes doing battle with the cartridge, the cartridge wounding him mortally, if the black toner all over his hands and face was any indication. 

"Drat!" He slammed his palms down on the infernal machine and hung his head in despair. He was about to admit defeat when a small, soft hand, wearing his grandmother's wedding rings reached around him and rested on his arm. 

"I'd . . . I'd like to help you . . . if you'll let . . . if you want me," Kerri whispered above the noise of the machines. 

Renfield exhaled deeply. It was several seconds before he could make his mouth work to form a response. "I . . . I just can't do this . . . this without you. I need you . . . I need your help . . . " He had to concentrate on keeping his breathing even, for fear of hyperventilating. 

"I know," she sighed. "I tried . . . I was . . . I'm just not . . . damn!" She had to close her eyes and take a deep breath before she could find the right words. "It seems that whatever happens to us we can handle it a whole lot better together than we can separately." 

Kerri was still standing behind and slightly to his side when he turned and gathered her into his arms. 

__________

"It's not exactly 'ice' hockey, they play it on rollerblades. Kowalski, I told you Fraser's a hockey snob." Ray was feeling pretty good to be needling Benny again. "So what if it's not on ice, it's still hockey. Lighten up, Benny. We'll pull Turnbull outta there and then we'll be on our way." 

Kowalski and Fraser both saw the car as they pulled up to the Consulate. "Hey, Frase, that's--" 

"Yes, it is, that's Kerri's car." They parked next to the Playboy Pink '66 Mustang convertible, yet another thing Ray loved about her. Fraser was fond of telling him he liked her car more than he liked her. Ray knew that to be untrue . . . well, sort of untrue. It was a really fine specimen of American automotive technology, after all. 

"Ya think we oughta go in an see if they need our help?" Kowalski asked as he drooled at the sight of the car. 

Vecchio laughed out loud. "Turnbull can be kinda goofy at times, but I don't think he needs our help, at least not in that department!" 

"That's not what I meant, 'n you know it!" 

"I think Constable Turnbull and Kerri are perfectly capable of reconciling without our assistance." Fraser didn't say so, but he was very anxious to find a phone where he could let Meg know about the most recent 'Turnbull' development, in private. "Why don't we just proceed with our plans for the hockey game?" Although he could simply not imagine how anyone could play hockey on rollerblades. 

__________

While their friends were outside the Consulate discussing rollerblade hockey, Renfield and Kerri were inside holding each other as if they would never let go. Kerri had her head buried against his t-shirt listening to his heartbeat, and Renfield rested his cheek against the top of her head, reveling in the feel of her in his arms. 

Finally, when all the machinery stopped and the room was quiet, and Kerri was covered in almost as much toner as he was, Renfield asked the question he had convinced himself he would never be given the opportunity to ask. "Kerri," he whispered, "may I come home?"

_______________________________________________________________

They held hands but didn't speak during the short ride home, afraid to break the spell. Renfield had no idea what had caused Kerri's change of heart and he didn't care. All he cared about at this moment was the feel of her hand in his and the glorious proximity of her body. 

They left a trail of clothing from just inside the front door, up the stairs and across the living room. Dickens jumped up and down when he saw Renfield, but as he took a second, closer look he decided to take up residence under the shelves in the travel section. He'd seen them this way before and had learned a long time ago that when they acted like this they didn't want him around. 

Halfway across the living room, Renfield swept her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to their bed. He laid her down and looked deeply into her eyes. He had to hesitate momentarily to convince himself that this wasn't another dream, he was really home, really in their bed, and really held her in his arms. 

There were so many things he needed to do to put things right, so many things he wanted to say, but at this moment he could think of only three words. "I love you," he whispered.

Those three words were just what Kerri needed to hear. She drew him down on top of her and sighed deeply into his kiss. Renfield tried desperately to be gentle with her, not wanting to hurt her any further, and always aware that he was so much larger, but Kerri would have none of it. She touched and teased him until he was completely lost. Their lovemaking was passionate and quick, hot and completely overwhelming for both of them. 

In her arms Renfield was at last home and once again certain of who he was. Kerri no longer doubted his love and reveled in his passion. Elvis had said it over a month ago, 'they was now one'. It had taken them longer than most couples to begin their married life, but they were now on the right path. 

As Kerri dozed, Renfield propped himself on his elbow and watched her sleep. Even though the late afternoon heat had invaded their room like an unwanted visitor who had overstayed its welcome, he rejoiced in the warmth of her body, so close to his. He wore the biggest smile he'd had in, well, since their wedding night. So many things had gone wrong since then, but now he had the chance to make them right. As he watched her he couldn't help but touch her hair. He knew she'd cut it as an act of independence from him, and that he was to blame. He swore to himself that he would never tell her how much he hated it. 

But there was so much more to her than her appearance, he'd learned that about two minutes after they'd met. He smiled more deeply as it occurred to him yet again, they were back together, forever. He ran the back of his hand gently over her cheek and gloried in the softness of her skin. Yes, there was a lot more to her than physical beauty, but she certainly was as beautiful a woman as he had ever seen. He ran his fingers across her cheek and over her forehead, and laughed to himself when she crinkled her nose in her sleep. 

He kissed her gently on her forehead. "Lord, thank you for bringing us back together," he whispered. "I love her so much, I know I could never have survived without her." 

It was then that he noticed it, a tiny v-shaped scar at the outer corner of her left eye. He went cold all over as he realized how it had gotten there. René. It broke his heart to see her lovely face marred even in this small way by the evil that that man represented. He felt the tears forming in his eyes as he touched the tiny mark. 

As he despaired over the scar Kerri opened her eyes and smiled at him, then sighed as she interpreted the look on his face. She touched his cheek and smiled again. "It's not that bad, it's really not," she whispered. 

"It looks . . . looks like a tear drop. René did this." 

She shifted her position slightly to face him. "Renny, René is gone. He passed through our lives and left more marks than just this little one. But we've survived it. Let's just think of this little scar as our outward mark of victory over the evil and sadness that consumed him. I don't blame René anymore, we both need to forgive and . . . not forget . . . it will take a long time to forget, but just move on." 

Renny didn't look like he was convinced, so Kerri set about persuading him with tiny kisses on his neck. When he started to voice his objection she smothered his words with her mouth. After the briefest of moments Renfield decided to agree with her. 

_______________________________________________________________

Sometime during the night, Kerri reached for Renny and found that he was not there. A moment of panic overwhelmed her, but then she heard a movement from across the room. Turning on her side she saw him, staring out the window, his body barely illuminated by the dim glow of the street light below. 

Kerri smiled deeply as she watched him, the man she loved, standing naked in the soft light. As she allowed herself the pleasure of just drinking in the image of him, Kerri was reminded once again that she loved more than just the heart and spirit of Renfield, she also loved his body. The very first thing she had ever noticed about him was his size. He was well beyond average height, with broad strong hands and large feet. Her smile deepened, his feet caused him to be rather clumsy at times but it was a quality she found terribly endearing. But his occasional clumsiness belayed the overall power of the man. She could see the definition of the muscles across his back, and down his thighs. He possessed the kind of strength that could snap a smaller man in two, but his was not a violent power, to be used in force. Renny was as gentle a man as she had ever known. For all the brute force that his brother had possessed, Renfield was a gentle giant. Oh, he could certainly intimidate, and subdue when necessary, but unlike what Lance might have believed, he could never physically injure another person in anger. 

He shifted his position slightly, presenting her with a fine view of him from the front. Then her smile really deepened. Yes, she loved Renfield's body. She knew Marie Laurier Brock to be many things, but she had certainly produced a fine specimen of adult manhood. 

Kerri frowned slightly when she heard him sigh. Without a moment's hesitation she hopped out of bed and went to him, putting her arms around his waist and drawing him close to her. She pressed her head against his chest and listened to the thundering of his heart. 

They stood that way for several minutes, holding each other tightly, safe and secure in each other's arms. Finally Kerri felt him inhale deeply, a shuddering breath that troubled her. Not wanting to lessen her hold on him, Kerri whispered into his chest, "Renfield, what's wrong?" 

"I'm just so grateful that you want me back. I was so wron--" his words were cut off by the pressure of Kerri's fingers over his lips. 

"You don't need--" 

He stared deeply into her eyes as he removed her fingers and kissed them lightly. "Yes, I do. Please, let me say this?" Gazing into her eyes he didn't know if he could say it, words seemed to be failing him at the moment. "The things I did . . . the things I said . . . God, Kerri, the things I said to you . . . I didn't mean any of it. Meeting René, learning about my past, it just scared the hell out of me. I know that's no excuse, but I just didn't deal with it very well. I have to know, have to hear you say that . . . that you to forgive me. . ." 

Kerri was reminded yet again why she loved him so very much. "I forgive you, but . . ." She stood on her toes and kissed him lightly, "you have to know that I'll make you pay. . ." she kissed him a little more deeply, "and pay . . . " The kisses became increasingly most insistent, "and pay . . . " until her last words were muffled by a kiss so deep and intense that she could no longer speak. 

Renny swept her into his arms and carried her to their bed. 'Yep,' Kerri thought, 'I love his spirit, but boy, I sure love his body too!' 

He laid her on their bed and sat next to her. He had the strangest look on his face, one that Kerri had never seen before. It didn't concern her, she was just curious. "Renny, what is it?" she whispered as she ran her hands over his chest. 

He took her hands into his and stared deeply into her eyes. She felt that he was seeing all the way into her soul. When he finally spoke the love in his voice caused her heart to soar. 

"Do you remember that night in your hotel room, shortly after we met, when . . . when you showed me how much you loved me?"

Of course she remembered, it had been one of the most beautiful moments of her life. She wondered why he would bring that up . . . uh, oh. "Yes . . ." 

He leaned over her and kissed her brow as he whispered, "it's time I responded in kind. . ." 

Dickens was about halfway up the stairs, figuring that it was about time that they let him in to sleep at the foot of their bed, when he heard Kerri giggling. He humpffed back down to plop himself under the travel shelves, knowing full well that it would be a very long time before they paid any attention to him again.

Epilogue 

It would probably be a point of conjecture, to anyone who might care to ponder on it, as to whether or not Renfield and Kerri would have seen the two female figures standing in the mist below their bedroom window. Of course Renny and his bride weren't the least bit interested in looking any place other than into each other's eyes, but if they had been looking they probably would not have seen the women staring at them. 

"You know we really shouldn't be watching this. It's . . . it's . . ." 

"Gratifying?" 

"That's not exactly what I meant, and you know it!" The taller of the two women smiled as she sighed. "Your son hurt my Kerri rather badly, Elizabeth." 

"Yes he did, but she has a kind heart and she loves him very much, and knows how much he loves her. She is the perfect choice for Ren, and vice versa. He's needed someone who could see him for what he really is for such a long time. My death, Melly and Meggie, and now the truth about René and that awful woman, Ren has had much more to deal with than most men." 

Mary could only agree. "It's taken some time, but through all of it he's become a better man. Kerri was so lonely for such a long time, and now she's happy, happier than I have ever known her to be. Maybe those who have known great sadness are the only ones who can truly know great joy. " Mary sighed and slowly shook her head. "I missed almost all of her life. Oh sure, I could watch, and even direct when absolutely necessary, but I feel like I missed so much." 

"We both missed out on a lot. I was there, but how I would have loved to have held little Meggie in my arms the day she was born, or give Ren a great big hug of pride. I would have loved for Melly to have known that I thought she was so good for him . . . and I would love to tell Kerri that she is the best daughter-in-law a mother could ask for." 

Mary smiled at Elizabeth. "We're very fortunate that we've been allowed to watch over our children all these years. And very fortunate that we were able to bring them together. They're still going to have to be watched very closely, but I think they will be okay now." 

"I hope so. At times it has been very hard to watch Ren suffering. I've often thought that if I had lived he would have been able to withstand the other tragedies in his life a little more easily." Elizabeth laughed softly. "Listen to us, we sound like two old women, and actually we are both younger than our children!" 

"Well, maybe chronologically, but we have a special depth of wisdom that only passing to the other side can bring." 

Renfield's mother snickered. "So, you're saying that we're wise?" She thought about that for a minute. "I've seen some over here that have given their children some pretty bad direction!" Both women laughed in agreement. "But, I do have to say that your idea to nudge Ren into buying the bookshop was inspired." 

Mary returned the compliment. "And the way you contrived to get Margaret and Benton out of the way so Renfield could meet Kerri without outside interference, well that was brilliant! So, yes, we are wise." 

Both women laughed as they turned to look, one last time, at the window of their children's bedroom. "It's been awfully hard for them to get to this point, but they are very fortunate. Not only do they have us, they also have wonderful friends that will stand by them, no matter what." 

"Meg and Ben are the best two friends they could ask for. But I'm not so sure about Ray. He worries me." 

Kerri's mother was shocked. "Elizabeth! Ray is so cute, and he truly cares for them--" 

"My point exactly. He's a little too taken with my son's wife for my taste." 

Mary had never actually voiced it, but she had been mildly concerned about the same thing. "I've got it! Ray's lonely, and we aren't going to have much to do from now on, Lord willing, let's find a special friend for Ray! If we could get Renfield and Kerri together, and, more importantly, keep them together, we can certainly find someone for him." 

"You're on. It may take all of our combined wisdom, but I'd do anything to keep him away from Kerri!" Mary frowned at her companion. "Okay, if you insist, I kind of like him too. He's been there for Ren so many times I've lost count." Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "All right, let's find Ray a lady." Mary didn't say it, but wondered if a lady was what he would really want. 

Mary walked to the back wall of the bookshop and gently patted the brick. "Love well, my children, your mothers are keeping watch." 

Mary and Elizabeth left their children and disappeared, arm in arm, into the mist. 

The End


End file.
